Breathing
by Shunyata Ryuen
Summary: An atypical reincarnation fic dealing with Ryuuen & Saihitei, and their struggles to overcome health problems, stereotypes, and an unaccepting society. [Rated PG-13 for shounen ai content. Nuriko/Hotohori]
1. One.

**Disclaimer:  **Fushigi Yuugi belongs to someone other than myself, and no money was made in the creation of this fic.  *nod*****

**Notes:**  I'm not certain where this fic came from.  I was passing by the the dry erase board this morning, and happened to see that I had an appointment with a Dr. Lovely on March 14th.  And somehow, from that, a fic was born. *shrug*  It's fairly dark, at least thus far, and may or may not be continued, as I'm not certain how interesting it'll be to those who are not...well, _me_. ^^;;;  So, if you read, do review.  The future of this fic may depend on it.  No pressure, though. ^_~.  Oh, and Ryuuen is spelled with two u's by whim of the author. *shrug*

**Warnings:  **Definite, definite, definite SHOUNEN AI.  Also, probably spoilers for the majority of the series, particularly up to episode thirty-three.  

**Breathing**

by Ryuen

"Hel-lo, Ryuuen.  And, how are we today?"

The voice was bright and cheerful, the face behind it even more so:  wide brandy-brown eyes, made all the wider by thick, wire-framed glasses; a large, crooked nose that spoke of adolescent fist fights; thin lips that pursed and smiled, showcasing a row of smoke-yellowed teeth.  Pale skin, dark hair, a stature that seemed to suggest a football player rather than a doctor--Ryuuen drank in every detail, swallowed it into himself with the fervor of one longing desperately for distraction.

The man stretched out a hand to him, and so he reached forward and grasped it, found it warm and sticky with sweat; the hospital gown rustled like newspaper as he moved.  "Hello," he said.  His voice was soft; his lips barely moved.

The smell of antiseptic was all around him.  Kourin had insisted that he would get used to the smell after a few hours, that it would fade into the background of his mind and he wouldn't notice it anymore, but so far, that hadn't happened.  He'd spent three hours with the smell in the waiting room, leafing through an old People magazine and trying to keep Sai from pacing back and forth in front of the nurse's station.  After that, he'd been ushered back through the double doors and into a sparse, claustrophobic room where he was instructed to take off his clothes, tie back his long hair, and change into a hospital gown.  Sai hadn't been allowed to come back with him for some ungodly reason, and so he'd sat there alone, the chill air sweeping under the crack in the door and bathing him in goose bumps, his legs dangling off the side of the examining table like a five-year-old in his father's chair.  

The antiseptic smell had stayed with him as he sat there, humming softly to himself and trying to find something to focus on other than the wait and how irrationally afraid he was.  And, then, nearly forty-five minutes later, a pretty Asian nurse had slipped into the room, engaged him in about three minutes of useless questioning, and then commanded him across the hall to the equally-claustrophobic bathroom.  There, he'd followed her vaguely-embarrassing instructions, and several minutes later had dropped a plastic BIOHAZARD bag into the slot she pointed him to.

After that, he'd been led to another, different room farther down the hall, where his clothes were waiting for him--and, so was another nurse.  This one pointed him to an examining table, which he climbed onto with speedy obedience...and, then, the nurse had smiled and told him it would be a few minutes and left.  And, it had been nearly thirty minutes, according to the silver $9.99 Walmart watch on his wrist, before the door swung open again, and nearly fifteen minutes after that that this man had finally arrived.

And, so, here he sat, shivering with cold and fear and starting to fall asleep from the long stretches of silence, and still there was antiseptic in his nostrils.  If he'd eaten anything this morning, he was fairly sure he'd have thrown it up by now.

"Well," the man went on, reaching beneath the desk and rolling out a backless swivel chair, "my name is Doctor Kyle Lovely, and I'll be taking care of you today, all right, Ryuuen?"  Dr. Lovely drew a hand to his breast pocket as he spoke, pulled out a ballpoint pen and clicked it on with his thumb.  "Well, now, let's get down to business, shall we?" 

He nodded mutely.  A strand of violet hair slipped free of its tie with the movement, fluttered down against his shoulder.  

Dr. Lovely, who by now had planted himself on the swivel chair and rolled it over to the examining table, lifted the clipboard up from his lap and cradled it in his left arm.  "All right," he said in a flat, doctorly voice, "now, I understand you've been experiencing some chest pain and difficulty breathing?"

Again, the mute nod.  Lovely gave a nod of his own and scribbled something onto the clipboard.  "Now, Ryuuen," he continued in the same bland tone, "I'd like to you to look at this chart--"  He jerked a thumb towards the door.  "--and tell me the number of the severity of the pain, zero being no pain at all and ten being excruciating pain."

The eighteen-year-old's eyes flickered to the chart, stamped as it was against the door with sticky tack.  A slender blue rectangle, the numbers zero through ten were printed on it in cheerful bubble letters, and above them were drawn a variety of smiley and not-so-smiley faces.  The one above zero was grinning widely, a row of straight white teeth flashing from beneath its lips; the one at ten, however, had its eyes scrunched up in pain; its face was red and lined, and tears trickled over its cheeks.

Ryuuen swallowed.  "It varies," he said.  His voice was little more than a croak, so he cleared his throat, looked again to the chart.  "I mean, at first, it wasn't all that bad, maybe a...a three, or something."  
  


Lovely's eyes were fixed on him, peering at him through the thick lenses as if through a microscope.  "When was the last time you experienced the pain?"

"Yesterday morning."

"And, how severe was it then?"  
  


His eyes slid closed; a flash of remembered pain trickled into him, and it was difficult for a moment not to draw a hand to his chest.  "Eight," he whispered.  "Maybe nine."

The doctor stared at him blankly for a moment, and then his eyes went narrow.  "You're certain you understand the distinction between the numbers, aren't you, Ryuuen?  I realize that it's difficult to judge the severity of pain, but understand that a ten is excruciating, unbearable pain..."  
  


He couldn't take it anymore; he drew an arm to his ribs and held it there.  "Yes, I understand," he said in a tight voice.  "Yesterday, it was...eight or nine."

Lovely's eyebrows raised; he turned his gaze back to the clipboard and scribbled a bit more urgently this time.  "Okay, now.  I'm going to ask you a series of questions about the nature of the pain--what it feels like, when it comes, things like that, and I want you to answer as honestly as you can, all right?"  
  


He nodded. 

"Okay, then.  What is it, do you think, that triggers the pain?  Does it come at a certain time of day, or after you do a certain kind of activity, or...?"

Ryuuen was silent for a long moment.  His fingers tangled together in his lap, rustling against the papery gown.  "I...I don't know," he murmured at last.  "It's been...different every time.  Sometimes it's in the morning, sometimes the afternoon.  Once it was in the middle of the night.  I don't know."  
  


The pen scratched against the clipboard; Lovely's eyes flickered up to meet his gaze for only a second before plunging back down to the paper.  "All right, now, describe the nature of the pain for me.  Tell me where it hurts, what it feels like, how long it lasts."  
  


His voice was little more than a whisper.  "It's...right here.  On the...the left side of my chest.  But, sometimes, it's...here, instead."  A shaky hand lifted, touched against the center of his chest.  "It's a...a sharp pain that makes it hard to breathe.  It only ever lasts for a few minutes, though." 

Dr. Lovely blinked at him, staring silently for a moment.  Then, he shifted in the chair, brought the clipboard back down to his lap and regarded his patient with concern.  "Ryuuen, is there any history of heart disease in your family?"  
  


"Yes."  
  


"Who?"  
  


"My father."

"Your father...I see."  The thin lips pursed together, and a line formed in the man's brow.  "Ryuuen, I don't want to scare you, but it's a possibility that what you're experiencing is a form of heart disease called Hypertrophic Obstructive Cardiomyopathy."  Lovely gave a brief smile.  "That's quite a mouthful, huh?"  
  


His mouth felt suddenly dry; the panic was clawing at his stomach, wrapping around his throat like icy fingers.  "H...Heart disease?" he managed.  "But...but, I'm only eighteen..."

Dr. Lovely shook his head solemnly.  "That's a common myth, that only older men and women can have heart disease.  Truthfully, I've seen kids younger than you, only nine or ten years old, who were experiencing the same kinds of chest pain you're describing.  And, with a great many of them, it was heart disease.  It's not _definite_, of course.  There could be a number of other causes for your symptoms, but we have to make sure not to dismiss this possibility.  If it is HOCM, then there's a slim possibility that--if it goes untreated--your heart could go into cardiac arrest at any time, and probably without much warning at all."  He shook his head.  "Naturally, we'd like to avoid having that happen.  So."  He lifted the clipboard again, started to write.  "I'm going to refer you to an excellent cardiologist named Sue Reckner, and she'll do some x-rays, listen to your heart, and give you a more definite diagnosis."  

Lovely glanced up from the paper, offered a wide smile. "Okay, Ryuuen?  Now, all I'm going to need you to do now is get dressed, go back down the hall to the nurse's station, and give the lady there this." There was the sound of paper being torn along a serrated edge; a moment later, Ryuuen found a flimsy green slip in his hand.  "She'll set up an appointment for you with Dr. Reckner, and tell you when to come back."

"But..."  He glanced at the paper in his hand, saw that it was shaking between his fingers; he had to swallow several times before he could gather enough saliva to speak.  "But, what if something happens before she can see me?"

Having already risen from the swivel stool and walked to the door, Dr. Lovely turned back to him, regarded him silently for a moment before speaking.  "There's very little chance that that will happen.  But, I would say that you should avoid being alone for extended periods of time until you see her.  If you live alone, for example, I would suggest going to stay with a friend or family member.  And, Ryuuen, if you think you might be having an emergency, don't hesitate to call an ambulance or get to the hospital as quickly as possible.  No one will make you feel stupid if it's a false alarm, trust me.  Far too many people lose their lives because they ignore their symptoms and don't get help soon enough.  So, promise me that you'll pay close attention to what your body is telling you, and not hesitate to get help if you think it's an emergency.  Okay?"  
  


"O-Okay." 

Lovely smiled. "Okay.  Get dressed, and then stop in at the nurse's station, and they'll get everything set up.  It was a pleasure meeting you, Ryuuen."  
  


The words came to his lips automatically.  "Pleasure meeting you, too."__

And, then, Dr. Lovely had stepped out into the corridor and swung the door closed, and again, he was alone.  As he climbed shakily down from the examining table and worked at getting dressed, he barely noticed the smell of antiseptic.  

~*~*~*~*~*~

He moved down the faceless corridor in a daze, faded Keds scuffing against the linoleum, hair still tugged back into a low, loose ponytail.  His eyes stared blankly at the floor.  It wasn't until he nearly collided with a man in a wheelchair that he lifted his gaze, folded his arms over his chest, and walked more purposely towards the waiting room.  

The room was supposed to look "homy," he supposed, with its plush brown arm chairs and patterned rug and various happy-children paintings.  It didn't feel homy as he stepped into it, though.  It felt cold and lifeless and foreign, and if it hadn't been for the sight of Saihitei, leaning wearily against the wall with chestnut hair falling in his face and eyes lightly closed, he might've just kept on walking to escape.  As it was, though, he did as Dr. Lovely had told him--he walked to the nurse's station, leaned his elbows lightly on the counter, and handed the slip to the pretty Asian nurse he'd seen earlier.  She gave him a polite smile, and then turned to her computer.  Her nails were long and fake and red, and they clicked loudly against the keys as she typed.

"All right," she said in a soft, unaccented alto.  Her eyes never left the computer screen.  "The earliest date Dr. Reckner is available is on Tuesday the seventh at 9:30, 11:45, and...two.  Do any of those times suit you--"  Her eyes flickered to the slip of paper.  "--Mr. Chou?"  
  


"Nine thirty is fine."

"All right, then."  Clickety-clickety-click.  "I'll just print this out for you, and then you're free to go."

He nodded numbly.  "Thank you."  
  


And, then, suddenly, he was aware of someone standing just behind him, of a warmth against his shoulders.  He turned, found Sai standing there with dark smudges beneath his eyes and a weary kind of concern in his expression.  

"Are you all right?" Sai asked quietly.  The amber of his eyes glittered in the fluorescent lighting, and past the fear and the concern and the fatigue, he caught a glimpse of the warmth and love and strength he come to rely so heavily on.  He felt a sudden longing to fall into this man's embrace, let that strength wrap around him and draw him away from the fear, but…

But, the nurse's eyes were on him, and the waiting room was filled with old men and young women and small children, few of whom he assumed would take too kindly to an open show of their relationship here.  Something inside of him was screaming, though, and he knew that if he stood here for one moment more, alone and cold and frightened, he was going to break down.  So, screw them.  Screw society.  Screw Western Pennsylvania.

Face twisting, Ryuuen sprang forward and wrapped his arms around Saihitei, pressed his cheek to his boyfriend's broad, muscular chest.  Although he was sure the move startled the taller man, there was only a moment's delay before Sai's strong arms were wrapped around him, holding him close and making him feel warm, protected, and safe.  

Still shivering with cold and fear, Ryuuen closed his eyes, and let himself be comforted.

"Ryuuen...honey...you're shaking.  What happened?"  

He hadn't intended to start crying, but the tears seemed to have come of their own volition.  "L-Let's talk about it at home," he managed, voice muffled by the nearness of Sai's blue silk shirt.  "Please, let's...let's just go home."  
  


"Mr. Chou?  Mr. Chou, I have your appointment card, here..."

Careful not to jar the young man in his arms, Saihitei shuffled over to the counter, then lifted one arm to grab the card.  "Thank you." 

And, then, he tucked the card into his pocket, shifted so his arm was wrapped around Ryuuen's shoulders rather than his back, and the two walked through the waiting room and then out the double doors.  A moment later, they were outside, moving with slow steps towards the parking garage.

~*~*~*~*~*~


	2. Two.

_[no money gained, no ownership claimed.  beware of shounen ai.]_

~*~

The car ride back began with almost unendurable silence.  

For the first few minutes, Ryuuen sat curled up in his seat, the seatbelt pressing uncomfortable against his chest, and leaned his head against the window.  Every small bump in the road cracked his skull against the glass, made the seatbelt cut into his chest.  Finally, exhausted and in pain and wanting only to feel like himself again, he undid the seatbelt, slid over, and leaned against Sai's shoulder.  

He felt weak and drained, like he'd been out running for hours; the fact that he hadn't eaten a thing all day certainly didn't help, either.  Saihitei turned to him in concern after they'd pulled to a stop at a red light, slim, dark eyebrows pushing together on his brow.

"Ryuuen..."  
  


The smaller man closed his eyes, rested his forehead against Saihitei's shoulder and brought both fists to his chin.  "I-I'm sorry," he whispered.  "Could we stop somewhere?  I-It's just that I haven't eaten all day and I'm kind of..."

The light changed; Sai's brown loafer pressed against the pedal and sent them surging forward into the flow of traffic.  Once they were past the intersection, he felt those warm amber eyes on him.  "You haven't eaten at all?" he demanded.  "Ryuuen, it's almost four o'clock..."

Carefully, he ducked his head beneath Sai's arm, wrapped his arms around the younger man's torso and pressed his cheek again to the broad chest.  Immediately, a warm, sleepy feeling overcame him, and for the first time since he'd woken up eight hours earlier, he felt his muscles relax.  "I know," he murmured.  "I just...I felt sick this morning, and since we were at the hospital for so long..."  He snuggled closer; Sai's right arm slipped down from the steering wheel, wrapped gently around his back.

"Where would you like to stop?"  
  


"Anywhere.  Just...someplace I can eat."  
  


"Well..."  Sai let a soft breath pass between his lips, and from the sound of his voice, Ryuuen was fairly certain that a thoughtful frown was playing across his features.  "There aren't many food places this close to the hospitals.  If you don't mind waiting, we could go to the Eat'n Park on Scalp Avenue, but it might take awhile.  Or, we could stop somewhere closer.  I'm fairly certain there's a pizza shop coming up on the right, and a Burger King a few miles past that.  Or, if you'd like--"

"Anywhere.  Really.  Just...somewhere close.  Whatever's closest."

~*~

They walked into the stuffy little pizza shop arm in arm, Ryuuen's head leaning lightly against the larger man's shoulder.  The place was fairly empty, despite the fact that it was leaning on the dinner hour, but Saihitei wasn't exactly inclined to complain about that fact.  Beside him, Ryuuen moved with a weak, drained kind of weariness, and he had a sinking suspicion that if he were to lift his arms from around the smaller man's shoulders, Ryuuen would tumble to the floor before he would support himself.  

It scared him.  His heart was thundering in his chest, and his thoughts were spinning so wildly in his brain that it was difficult to so much as greet the pizza shop employee without losing his grip on what he was saying.  Ryuuen, despite his appearance, was the strongest person he knew--for him to be out of control like this, for him to be clinging to him like a frightened child...it made _him_ feel like a frightened child.

_God, what if something's really wrong?  What if...what if that doctor told him that he's going to die or something, and he's only waiting for the right time to tell me?_

The mere thought made his stomach churn with a sick, helpless feeling; it clenched at his heart like talons, made him want to sink into the nearest corner and close his eyes and wait for the world to vanish around him.  

But...  

He drew in a calming breath, let it trickle out through his lips as he led/pulled his boyfriend to one of the small, crumb-sprinkled tables.  But, he had to be strong.  For Ryuuen's sake, he had to be strong, solid; he had to be someone this man could count on, someone he could lean on no matter what it was that had happened in that hospital today.  

Ryuuen seemed to snap out of his stupor once they reached the table, at least partially; he lifted his arms from around the younger man's chest, stood on his own for a moment, and then lowered himself into one of the painted wire-back chairs.  He looked a little steadier, Saihitei found himself thinking as he took his own seat.  His eyes were open and clear, still looking vaguely haunted but at least not brimming with tears, anymore.  His hands, also, seemed to have stopped shaking, and the breath was slipping from his lips in a fairly even rhythm.  

Ryuuen was calming down, slowly drawing himself up from the depths of his trauma and into a place where he could stand instead of leaning.  Sai could see the strength bleeding back into this man's body as if it were a visible, tangible thing--the gradual straightening of Ryuuen's shoulders, the slow trickling of life back into his eyes, the long, deep, slow breaths that were drawing him up, making him sit taller in his seat...

_It's time.  It's time to ask._

A pretty blonde woman with a ponytail had brought them their drinks a few moments earlier--a Sprite for Ryuuen, a Diet Coke for him--so he wrapped his fingers around the glass, drew the straw to his lips before he spoke.  Then, with the watery tang of the stuff still on his tongue, he cleared his throat, stared across the table, and drew breath to speak--

--but, Ryuuen beat him to it.

"The doctor thinks I might have heart problems," Ryuuen said quietly.  His voice was surprisingly steady, despite being nearly inaudible, and his eyes, too, were clear of the sightless glaze they'd had when he'd reentered the waiting room all that time ago.  He cleared his throat lightly.  "I have an appointment on Tuesday with a cardiologist.  I...I know that you have work, so I can ask Miaka and Taka to--"

"Don't be silly," he cut in as gently as he could manage.  "One of the benefits of being self-employed is never having to worry that I might not be able to take off.  I'll take you, Ryuuen."  
  


_Heart problems?  Heart problems?  What kind of heart problems?  _

"Okay," Ryuuen murmured.  "A-Anyway, the...the doctor said that there's probably nothing to worry about between...between now and my appointment, but that I shouldn't be alone, because..."  He trailed off; a moment later, he'd put his lips to the straw of his Sprite and taken a long, thirsty drink.  "Because, it's a small chance, but...but, I might..."  

_No.  I don't want to hear it.  I don't...I don't want to hear that he might..._

"Did the doctor prescribe anything for the pain?" he cut in quickly.

Ryuuen glanced up at him in surprise; then, slowly, he shook his head.  "No.  But, if it happens again, I'm supposed to go to the hospital, to make sure that it's not--"  His voice sank.  "--something more serious."

They sat in silence for a few moments after that, Ryuuen staring blankly down at the tangling of his fingers in his lap, Saihitei staring with utmost concentration at the backwards letters on the shop's window.  Finally, the younger man let out a soft sigh, turned back to those abstracted violet eyes with the intention of speaking--but, again, Ryuuen beat him to it.

"Do you think that...that maybe you could be the one to tell Miaka and the others?"  

Saihitei nodded.  "Of course.  But..."  He swallowed; this was probably going to be a delicate question, and possibly not one Ryuuen felt like relating the answer to right now, but...but, he had to know.  "But, I might be able to give them more information if you could...tell me just precisely what it was that the doctor said to you.  If you can't remember, that's all right," he added quickly.  "But, it...it might help."

Ryuuen was silent for a long moment; in the background, there was the sound of a woman's high-pitched laughter, of low, authoritative tones from behind the pizza counter, punctuated by the occasional clatter of dishes.  Then, those rosy violet eyes flickered up from the table, locked him into their gaze, and the lips beneath them began to move.

"He didn't tell me all that much, just that...that from my symptoms, it might be some kind of heart disease.  Th-There's a big long name for it, but I can't remember it.  Hypertrophic something."  
  


Saihitei felt his palms go cold.  "Hypertrophic Obstructive Cardiomyopathy?" he whispered.

"Y...Yeah, I think that's what he said."  
  


_Please.  Please.  Not…not again. Please._

"Sai?"

He snapped out of his thoughts.  "Hm?"

Ryuuen just stared at him, eyebrows lifted slightly and curving upwards, his lips twisted into a very slight frown.  At last, the taller man sighed, bowed his head slightly.  "It's nothing, really.  I knew someone with HOCM before, that's all."  
  


"Did...were they okay?"

He looked up from his Coke, gave the widest, fakest smile he'd ever given in his life.  "Yes.  They were fine."  Then, a moment later:  "Ah, look, the pizza's here."  He made a show of reaching forward, moving the salt and pepper shakers out of the way so the woman would have room to put it down.  Once she had, he smiled at her and thanked her, and then with a little wink, she was gone.

...and, even though he could feel Ryuuen's eyes on him as he drew the pizza cutter into his fingers and carved out a slice, he didn't acknowledge it.  A few moments later, they were both silent and enjoying their half-mushroom/half-pepper, and despite the questions in his eyes, Ryuuen didn't say anything else.  

~*~

AN:  There's more to this chapter, but as I'm on my way out the door, I don't have time to finish it. ^^;;  However, I'd appreciate whatever commentary can be given on this chapter…particularly since I haven't quiiiiiiite had time to edit it, yet. ^_^()


	3. Three.

_[beware of shounen ai...]_

~*~

Miaka's hands pressed to her mouth; a soft, choked noise rose from her throat.  Beside her, Taka was wide-eyed and stricken, arms hanging limply at his sides, back pressed to the wall as if he doubted his ability to stand.

They spoke in hushed voices, wary of Ryuuen, who was sleeping in the next room.

"His...his heart?" Miaka managed.  Her voice was high and muffled, the hand still clamped to her mouth.  

Saihitei closed his eyes.  "Ironic, isn't it?" he murmured.  "I'd always thought that Ryuuen's heart was the strongest muscle in his body."

Miaka closed her eyes, leaned her back against the wall and pressed both palms over her face.  "It's not fair," she whispered.  "Not him.  Not again."

Taka, meanwhile, had folded both arms over his chest, was regarding the other man with a narrow, worried gaze.  "Is he going to be all right?  I mean...is he going to need surgery?"  
  


Before Saihitei could answer, however, Miaka had drawn the hands from her eyes, cleared her throat.  "Let's go sit down in the living room," she said softly.  Her eyes flickered to the smooth oak of Ryuuen's bedroom door, just off Taka's left shoulder, and Saihitei was suddenly aware of the sheen of moisture swimming in her eyes, of the way her bottom lip wavered, just slightly, as she spoke.  "I-I don't want to disturb him.  He needs his rest...right?"

Taka gave a slow nod.  "Miaka's right. Let's go in the living room."

A few moments later, they'd filtered single file into the small but plush living room, were making their way to the snowy upholstery of the couch.  Before they reached it, though, Miaka darted to the picture window, pulled down hard on the string, and sent the curtains rushing to the sides--the room was flooded with late afternoon sunshine, casting an inviting golden hue over the matching white of the furniture, the carpeting, the walls.  Despite the cheerful sunlight, however, the trio lowered themselves onto the couch with an air of gravity and sorrow hovering above them; it was a long time before any of them spoke.

Finally, it was Miaka herself who broke the silence.

"Sai," she said slowly.  "I just want you to know that, no matter what happens, Taka and I'll be here for you guys.  I mean, like, if you have to stop chipping in for the rent for awhile to pay for medical bills or surgery or something, don't worry about it, because we'll take care of it.  Right, Taka?"  
  


Despite appearing less than happy at the thought of the extra expense, Taka nonetheless gave a surprisingly-sincere nod.  "Right," he said.  "We'll do whatever we can.  E-Even--"  His voice wavered.  "--pay for surgery or something, if Ryuuen needs it and you can't afford it."

Saihitei smiled, a warm, _safe_ feeling coursing over him, drawing the last of the panicky fear from his body.  "Miaka...Taka..."  The smile softened.  "Thank you so much.  I can't tell you how much it means to me, that you would be willing to give up so much for us, but...but, don't worry.  Ryuuen might not even _need_ surgery, and if he does, I have more than enough to pay for it.  But, truly.  Thank you."

Miaka was leaning forward in her seat, arms wrapped tightly over her chest.  "So, he...he might not need surgery?"  

Sai shook his head.  "No, he might not.  As a matter of fact, the doctor isn't even entirely certain that there _is_ some sort of problem with his heart, but it can't be ruled out until they test for it.  That's why he's going to see a cardiologist on Tuesday, so they can take some x-rays and figure out just what the trouble is."

"Tuesday?" Miaka squeaked.  "B-B-But, if something _is_ wrong...what if something happens before then?"

Taka winced.  "Miaka, shh.  I'm sure nothing will happen between now and then.  It's only a few days, after all.  But, um..."  His eyes turned to Sai, who'd opted to lower himself into the armchair next to the couch rather than the couch itself.  "But, if something _does_ happen, what should we do?"  
  


The eighteen-year-old's voice was tight.  "Get him to the hospital as quickly as possible.  Even if it seems like nothing.  Even if we're ninety-nine percent sure that it's _not_ a heart attack."

A high, anguished sound worked its way from Miaka's throat.  "H...Heart attack.  God.  Ryuu-chan..."

Immediately, Taka's arm lifted from his side, wrapped itself with gentle strength around his girlfriend's shoulders.  She leaned into him, her cheek pressing against his shoulder, and squeezed her eyes shut.  "It's okay," Taka said softly.  "It's gonna be okay.  Ryuuen's strong, Miaka.  He'll get through this."  
  


Her voice was dry and ashen, as if all the strength had bled from it.  "He was strong then, too," she whispered.  

~*~

Several restless hours later, Taka finally accepted his twenty dollar bribe and took Miaka out to dinner.  Saihitei had appreciated their presence, of course, particularly since Ryuuen hadn't stirred since they'd gotten home around five, but he thought best when he was alone.  And, besides, to keep their minds off their troubles, Miaka had insisted that they play a rousing but quiet game of charades, and...well, as much as he cared for the girl, she had despicable taste in games...not to mention the miming talent of a rock.  And, as none of the charades had yet required that she imitate said rock, he and Taka had been having a difficult time guessing just what it was she was trying to communicate.  

Even so, when the couple stepped out into the hallway and the door clicked shut behind them, he couldn't help thinking that the apartment felt a little emptier.

He was just tensing his muscles to turn and head to the kitchen when there was the jangle of a knob turning, followed by the swish of the bedroom door as it slid gently open.  He turned, the breath caught in his lungs, and found Ryuuen standing framed in the doorway, long violet hair a tangled flood on his shoulders, eyes small and bleary with sleep.  

Ryuuen's lips twisted upwards at the sight of him.  "Hi," he said softly.

Despite the volume, there was strength in his voice; and, now that he looked, he could see that same strength reflected in the square set to the older man's shoulders, the firm way his jaw was clenched...  Suddenly filled with an emotion he didn't entirely understand, Sai strode forward, lifted his arms, and pulled Ryuuen close.  It was only then, with the warmth of this head on his chest and the touch of these hands against his back, that he could relax, only then that he could breathe again.  

_I don't want to lose him. Please.  Please..._

A muffled voice met his ears a few moments later:  "S...Sai?"

With a gentle sigh, he released Ryuuen from the embrace, took a step backwards to give the other a bit more breathing room.  Upon taking that step, however, he realized that those violet eyes were gazing up at him, a slight frown drawing at the lips beneath them.  

Despite the oppressive summer heat that dragged at the air of the apartment, Ryuuen's thin frame was draped in a baggy grey sweatshirt and flannel pajama bottoms, his feet wrapped in the fuzzy green toe socks Miaka had given him for his birthday only a few months earlier.  And, even though he knew extremely well that this man was a great deal stronger than he appeared, he couldn't help but think how..._small_ Ryuuen looked, standing there dwarfed by his own clothes like a child playing dress up.

_Oh, Ryuuen.  I wish I could fix this for you._  _I wish I could make this better, somehow..._

He forced a smile onto his lips.  "How did you sleep?"

Thin shoulders shrugged.  "All right.  I'm going to have a hard time getting to sleep later tonight, though...but, maybe not.  I'm still feeling kinda worn out."

"Can I get you anything?  I could make you an egg, if you wanted, or get you a drink, or--"  
  


"Sai."  
  


"Hm?"  
  


Ryuuen smiled, very slightly.  "Don't try so hard, okay?  I'm not dying, and you don't have to treat me like I am.  But..."  The smile lifted.  "I am a little thirsty."

"What would you like?"

"Umm...surprise me?"

A smile of his own touching his lips, the taller man gave a slight nod.  "All right.  Be right back."  He spun to leave, but--

"Sai?"  
  


He paused, turned back and found that Ryuuen had taken several steps forward, now stood only an inch or so away from him, heart-shaped face lifted towards his own.  He blinked.  "Yes?"  
  


And, suddenly, there were slender arms wrapped snugly around his neck, soft bangs tickling against his throat as the other's face was buried in his shirt; he could feel the gentle thud of Ryuuen's heartbeat, warm and solid against his own, and for a moment was struck by the idea that, somehow, the beats were moving in perfect rhythm...

And, then, Ryuuen drew breath to speak, and all other thoughts bled from his mind.

"Saihitei," he said, very softly.  The moisture of his breath tickled against the skin of his neck, even as the words hammered like ice into his soul.  "I think that...under the circumstances...we should talk about certain things.  I..."  He swallowed.  "I know my family would want me to be buried in Pittsburgh, since that's where I was born, but...but, if something happens, I-I want to be buried here, in that cemetary down the street.  I...I want to be close by..."  
  


There was no air in his lungs, no blood in his veins; everything was chill and empty, his muscles limp and dead.  It was a long time before he could speak, the warm beat of Ryuuen's heart still echoing in his ears, and when he did, the words came out as scarcely more than a whisper.

"You're not going to die.  Don't...don't talk like that."  
  


Ryuuen lifted his arms from around the younger man's neck, wrapped them instead around the broad chest and squeezed.  "It's something we have to talk about," he whispered.  "Because, whether we talk about it or not, it could happen."

He closed his eyes; his eyebrows bent upwards in anguish.  "Fine," he managed.  "Here, not Pittsburgh."

The arms around him tightened, very briefly, and then left him entirely.  Ryuuen smiled up at him, a cool moisture shimmering in his eyes.  "Thank you."  The smaller man let out a heavy sigh, then, and closed his eyes; a slim hand touched to his forehead, massaged the bridge of his nose.

...and, concern lanced into him like a dagger.  "Ryuuen?  Are you all right??"  
  


Violet eyes slid open, smiled up at him.  "I'm fine.  Just...still a little tired, I guess."  
  


Sai's lips pursed.  "Come with me," he said, slipping forwards and taking his boyfriend by the shoulders.  "You should sleep."  
  


Suddenly finding himself being pushed/led back into the bedroom, Ryuuen let out a feeble, "But, I just got up..."  
  


Before he could protest much further, however, Sai had stretched down, slid his arms beneath the man's slim legs, and lifted Ryuuen from the ground.  A moment later, he'd deposited the weary eighteen-year-old onto a mass of smooth white sheets, and--after straightening the blankets and tucking them snugly beneath the mattress--had circled to the other side of the bed, pulled back the covers, and crawled in.  

Ryuuen rolled onto his back, turned his face towards the other man.  "I'm not all that tired," he said with a slight smile.  "And, I'm still thirsty."  
  


Before he could say anything more, however, Sai had slid to his side and drawn him into his embrace, and he found himself rather abruptly surrounded by warm arms, his back pressed to a broad, muscled chest.  "Then, I'll hold you until you fall asleep," he murmured.  

"And, if I don't?"  
  


A slight smile touched his lips.  "Then, I'll hold you until _I_ fall asleep."

Ryuuen gave a slow, sleepy nod, already settling into the embrace--his eyes slid lightly closed.  "Sai?" he murmured drowsily.

"Hm?"

"I want...you to be buried next to me...okay?"

"...okay."

A few moments later, Ryuuen's breathing grew slow and even, and it was only then that he let the tears come, only then that he let them slip silently down his cheeks and stain the soft cotton of the pillows.  Then, exhausted and spent, Saihitei closed his eyes, and drifted off to sleep with the beat of a heart that was not his own thudding in his ears.  

And, even though he squeezed Ryuuen's body a little too tightly during the course of his dreams, neither of them woke again until morning.

~*~

AN:  Next chapter in the works. Will more seishi appear??  Nattttturally. ^_~.  Arrigato to all who review!!


	4. Four.

~*~

He woke to the sound of sizzling eggs and low voices, and for a moment remembered that the reason he lived here was because it felt like _home_.  

He'd slept well, he discovered...but, then, for some reason, he always slept well when Sai was with him.  There was just something comforting about those arms surrounding him, and that scent that was specifically Sai's--like cedar chips and cinnamon--that sent him drifting into sleep almost effortlessly.  He felt safe when Sai was holding him, and...loved.  And, after so long without that feeling, there was nothing more comforting or gratifying than to feel it now.

Stretching his arms up over his head, Ryuuen pulled himself into a sitting position on the bed and yawned.  As he moved, he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the bureau mirror, saw that--not only did his bangs seem to be attempting to imitate Houjun's--but, the rest of his hair had become so tangled and matted that it hung only to shoulder length in some places, while the rest dangled down to the middle of his back.  He was just drawing himself up out of depths of the blankets to find his hairbrush when the pain hit.

It was sharp and unexpected, lancing up through his chest like claws, jolting through him with such intensity that for a long moment, he couldn't breathe at all.  Next came the dizziness; he'd just been swinging his legs over the side of the bed, ready to plant his feet on the carpet, but now everything had begun to spin, sending the bedroom rocking back and forth like an out of control carnival ride--it was all he could do to clutch onto the bed post, keep himself from falling face-first to the floor.  And then, finally, came the weakness.  All strength drained from his arms, his legs, his body; the grip on the bed post held for long enough that the eventual collapse didn't jar him too badly--it didn't, he noticed dully, even make more than a muffled, practically-inaudible thump as he fell...

His knees hit first, the impact jolting briefly up his spine; and, then, his fingers slipped from the round of  the bed post, and he slumped onto his right arm on the floor.  He opened his mouth to cry out, but there was no breath for it, and so for a long, frightening moment, he could do nothing but lie weakly on the floor, right arm crushed beneath his weight and left arm clinging to his side, and feel the pain.  It spiraled outwards from his chest, tingling through every limb and hammering into his skull like a dizzying migraine--bright flashes of color swam in his vision, blurry with tears and quivering like heat waves, and for a moment he thought frantically that he was dying, that he couldn't breathe because he was having a heart attack like the doctor'd said and that in a moment even these splotches of color were going to fade because he was going to drift off into blackness and die and no one would know before it was too late because he couldn't find the breath to scream--

And then, suddenly, he could breathe again.

It drifted in slowly at first, wheezing and soft, as if nothing but the first tiny rift in a breaking dam--and then, gradually, the rest of whatever it was that was blocking his breath crumbled away, and the air flooded into his lungs in great gasping breaths.  He coughed once, quietly, only vaguely aware of the fact that the pain was receding from his body, and tugged his arm out from beneath him; it was tingly with lack of blood flow, the fingers rubbery and limp, but he barely noticed.  

_I'm...I'm...alive._..

_I'm alive._

_I'm...alive._

The pain was nearly gone, now; the breath flowed normally through his nostrils, down his windpipe, into his lungs and back out again.  He was shaking badly, legs drawn up to his chest and arms wrapped tightly around them, and despite the return of his breath and the tears trickling from his eyes, he wept soundlessly.  Just outside the door, he could hear the pleasant melody of Miaka's laughter, the low, comforting bass of Sai's voice drifting up from beneath it.  There were other voices, too--Taka, Genrou, and was that Houjun?  All his friends were here, so close to him...  Distantly, he could smell brewing coffee, the buttery smell of scrambled eggs, and behind him, sunlight streamed in through the window, bathing the room in a warm golden glow that was both comforting and pleasant.

A perfect, wonderful morning.  His friends were here, he'd slept well, and from the scent of the air coming in through the screen, it was going to be another hot, beautiful July day.  But...

He drew in a soft, sobbing breath, rolled on the floor a bit to try to get his feet beneath him.  

But, the pain...  Dr. Lovely had said that he should get to the hospital as soon as possible if something like this happened, that he should call an ambulance, get someone to drive him...that he shouldn't ignore his symptoms, that people had died from doing that...

His eyes squeezed shut, sent the last clinging tears draining down over his cheeks.

Instead of warm and fed and surrounded by friends, he could be sitting in a hospital gown with anti-septic in his nostrils; he could be shivering and scared and alone, left by himself for hours without thought or explanation, made to stare at frighteningly-graphic medical posters while he waited and waited and waited for someone to appear, to help him, to make things better like they were _supposed_ to...

Or.  Or, he could be here, having a normal breakfast and normal conversation and a normal morning--he could be with the people he loved.  He could be _home_.

_It's...it's nothing, anyway. It's over, now, just like all the other times, right?  Just like all the other times.  I was fine then; I'm fine, now.  Yes.  I'm fine.  I'm okay.  I'm -fine._-

There was no pain, now; the breath came easily.  Slowly, carefully, Ryuuen crawled to his feet, crossed to the bureau, and lifted the brush from the varnished wood; a moment later, he was tugging it through the long violet waves of his hair like he did every morning, sorting through the tangles and combing it down so it fell neatly onto his shoulders.  He changed into a cottony grey tank top and clean blue jeans, peeled off his socks and slid his feet into comfortable sandals, and then moved to the door.  

As he reached for the door knob, a ghost of the pain twinged through him like a reminder, made him pause, clutch at his chest...and, then, it faded, and he pulled open the door, stepped outside, and greeted his friends.  

~*~


	5. Five

[_language, shounen ai, and shameless sap. ^_~._]

~*~

They were clustered around the kitchen table, Saihitei sipping coffee and reading the newspaper, Miaka shoving spoonfuls of Corn Pops into her mouth, Taka and Houjun sharing words over their orange juice.  Genrou, surprisingly enough, was standing before the stove with a pan in his hand, nodding his head to some inner melody and sprinkling salt over the eggs.  

For a moment, none of them noticed him, and so he just stood there, watching his friends with something akin to fascination.  

It seemed so...unbelievable, that he'd managed to find himself with these people who made him so happy--these people who felt more like family to him than his own did; and yet, somehow, he had.  The moment itself was fuzzy in his mind, but he remembered, first, meeting Miaka--she'd crashed into him in the hallway at school, sent both of their books crashing down onto the floor.  And, somehow, as they'd ducked and dived beneath the feet and arms and book bags of the passing students to retrieve all that'd been dropped, a friendship had been formed.  Through Miaka, he'd met Houjun and Taka, through Houjun and Taka...Saihitei.  

His eyes shifted, then, to that mane of sun-washed chestnut, those broad, muscular shoulders, those gold-tinged eyes that were, even now, smoothing over the lines of the newspaper.  It had always fascinated him, watching others--particularly the people he loved.  He remembered spending hours perched on the edge of his mattress when he couldn't sleep, gazing down at Kourin's lightly-snoring form in the next bed and just _watching_ her as she slept.  She'd woken to it a few times, found him sitting there watching her, but she'd never seemed to mind--it was as if she understood, somehow, his need to make sure that she was there, alive, and real.

Like these people.  They seemed too perfect to be real, too exactly-tailored to what he was and what he needed for them to be anything but phantoms of his truest dreams--but, so far, the dream went on, and he was quite sure, at this point, that he would rather die than wake up.

"RYUU-CHAN!"

He snapped out of his thoughts, was just in time to see the flash of brown and smiling pink that was Miaka bounding towards him...and then, she was in his arms, clinging to him tightly and resting her chin on his shoulder.  "Ryuu-chan, I'm so glad you're awake!"  

Smiling softly, he brought his arms up around Miaka's back, held her close for a moment.  "Ohayoo, Miaka," he murmured.  "Sorry I missed seeing you last night."  
  


After another gentle squeeze, Miaka released him, straightened...and, then, swatted him on the shoulder with the flat of her hand.  "Don't apologize," she said sternly.  "You needed to rest."  And then, abruptly, the smile was back on her lips.  "How do you feel?  Do you want something to eat?  Gen-chan made eggs!"  
  


Genrou muttered something, drawing the pan deftly over the stove in small, rhythmic circles.  Ryuuen smiled.  "Morning, Gen-chan."  He raised a slim eyebrow, arms folding over his chest as he approached the table.  "Since when have you known how to cook?"  
  


Genrou glanced at him over one shoulder, glaring.  "Since fuckin' _always_," he said, sounding vaguely offended.  "Just 'cause I never do it in front of _you_ doesn't mean I _can't_."

Miaka giggled, having already slid back into her seat.  "Don't listen to him," she whispered loudly.  "I overheard him asking Houjun what temperature he was supposed to cook them at."  
  


"It's a fuckin' unfamiliar stove!  How am I s'pose'ta know what fuckin' temperature to set it on?"  
  


Ryuuen turned his eyes to Houjun, but the blue-haired man was taking a long drink from his orange juice; from the curve to his lips, it was fairly obvious that he was hiding a smile.  

"So, how're you feeling?"  Taka.

He turned, found his friend's eyes on him and narrowed in worry.

_They're all so worried about me.  And...and, what're they all doing here now, anyway?  Genrou has to get to the garage, Houjun and Taka have work, and Miaka has school.  Why're they missing out on what's important to them just for me?  They...they shouldn't have to._

He gave a wide smile, dropped into the high-backed wood of his chair and flattened his palms out on the table.  "Great," he answered cheerily. "I'm feeling great.  I think maybe that doctor's visit was all that weird pain thing needed to chase it away."

Taka relaxed slightly, sinking back into his chair...but, Ryuuen was suddenly aware of Saihitei's eyes on him, and even more aware of the fact that he seemed to have been unconsciously avoiding glancing in Sai's direction this morning, afraid that those knowing eyes would look straight through this façade, see what he was hiding...  Before he had much chance to sort through those feelings, though, Miaka had gripped his hand and was speaking again.

"I'm glad," she said earnestly.  "But, you're still going in on Tuesday to see that cardiologist, right, Ryuu-chan?"  
  


A lump formed in his throat; it took all the effort and saliva he had to swallow it back down.  "I...of course!  Then at least she can tell me that nothing's wrong with me and life can go on, ne?"

He was suddenly aware of the rustle of clothing and newspaper; a moment later, a shadow had fallen onto him, even as a warm hand touched against his shoulder.  "Ryuuen."  It was Saihitei.  "Could I see you in the other room, please?"

_Stay calm.  Stay normal._

He rose to his feet.  "Sure.  Be right back for some of those eggs, Gen-chan."

The taller man had already turned and was striding towards the bedroom; it was only as he followed that Ryuuen noticed that Sai was still wearing the silky blue button-down he'd worn the day before, that he apparently hadn't changed his pants, either, from the wrinkled, slept-in khakis that adorned his legs now.  Saihitei's hair, too, was tangled and unkempt, thrown back into a loose ponytail that hung in twisted ribbons down the center of his back.

S...Saihitei?  Not showered?  Not dressed in clean clothes?  Not...not having brushed his _hair??_

_God, what've I done to him?  He must be miserable..._ A pang of guilt lanced into him, settled on his heart like a weight.  _It's because of me.  He's miserable and hurting...because of me. _

And then, the two of them were in the bedroom, Sai swinging the door carefully shut behind them, and there was no more time for such thoughts.

After the door had been closed, Saihitei turned, leaned his back against it, and regarded his boyfriend with narrowed eyes.  "Tell me," he said flatly.

Ryuuen blinked.  "T...Tell you?"  
  


The taller man ducked his head into a nod; the movement sent a frizzy piece of hair fluttering down past his cheek.  "Yes.  Tell me."  
  


"Tell you what?"  
  


"Tell me--"  Saihitei took a long step forward, placed his hands gently on Ryuuen's shoulders.  "--what happened.  Something must have, or you wouldn't be acting like this."  
  


Something cold settled in his stomach.  "A-Acting like what?"  
  


"Like...like nothing is wrong.  Like today's just any other day."

"Today _is_ just any other day.  Nothing's wrong with me, Sai.  There's a good chance the cardiologist is going to do an x-ray on Tuesday and find out that there's nothing at all the matter with me, that I'm just feeling what I'm feeling because...I don't know, just _because.  _People get pain all the time that doesn't mean anything."  
  


"No."  Sai's face had gone suddenly pale; his words were unnaturally-quiet.  "No.  Ryuuen...I was _there_ when it happened to you the last time, remember?  I was _there_.  You couldn't...you couldn't _breathe_.  That's not just something that happens to people; that's something serious.  Please don't try to pretend nothing is wrong with you for our sakes.  We're here because we want to be, and because we love you, and no amount of pretending is going to make us leave you alone until this has been sorted out."  
  


He took a long, angry step backwards, shrugging away from the hands on his shoulders.  "Well, what if it never gets sorted out?" he demanded.  "What if they _never_ know what's wrong with me?  What if every damned doctor I go to says that they don't know what it is, and I just keep going from one to the next to the next until finally one of these attack things kills me?  What then?"  
  


"Then, we'll stay with you until that happens.  But, we are _not_ leaving you, Ryuuen.  _I_ am not leaving you.  If it takes five days or five years or five decades, I'm not leaving.  We made a promise to each other, remember?"  He lifted his hand into the air, palm towards his face; the sunlight glinted from the simple golden band that rested on his ring finger, seemed to echo against the matching band on Ryuuen's own.    
  


The violet-haired man ducked his head; his voice sounded oddly muffled.  "It wasn't legal, you know."  
  


Something warm slid into his hand; he heard the metallic clink of the two rings hitting into each other.  "Legal or not," Saihitei said softly, " a promise is a promise.  Until death do us part, right?"

_The way things are going, that might not be a very long time._

Ryuuen let out a heavy breath, squeezed his eyes shut in anguish.  "I'm just so tired of causing people so much trouble," he managed.  "I-I know it's not my fault, but I'm tired of hurting people like this.  I just want everything to be normal again."  
  


Without hesitation, Saihitei lifted his arms, wrapped them around Ryuuen's shoulders, and pulled the smaller man close.  "Sweetheart," he whispered, "it's _never_ been normal.  Not the way we met, not the way we fell in love, not _anything_.  But, you can't keep trying to shoulder every burden on your own.  We're only _eighteen years old,_ Ryuuen.  _Eighteen_.  Do you know anyone else who's eighteen and is living like we are?  Eighteen is nothing.  We're _children_.  And, yet, we live more like adults than most twenty-five-year-olds I know.  My point is, that no matter how old we might feel and act, we're still like children in that we need to be comforted once in awhile, and we need to share our burdens with the people who love us.  That's what being human is about--depending on the people you love and letting them depend on you."  He released the violet-haired man from his embrace, cupped one of those pale cheeks beneath his palm.  "How can I let myself depend on you if you won't do the same thing for me?"

And then, for the first time, it hit him.

_He needs me.  He.  Needs.  Me.  _

_When he holds me...it's not just to comfort me, it's to comfort -him-.  And right now, when he's taking about not shouldering burdens on my own and letting myself depend on other people, he's talking about himself, too, isn't he?  _

_Have I -ever- known Sai to let someone else be strong for him?  Have I -ever- seen him go to someone for comfort?  Have I ever even seen him -cry?-_

_He needs me.  Blessed holy bloody God...he needs me._

The tears came to his eyes without his permission; all he could do was blink them away, let them fall.  "Sai, I'm so sorry," he whispered.  "I...I didn't realize."  He took a few shaky steps backwards, ended up sitting on the edge of the bed with hands pressed up over his face.  "I'm sorry..."  
  


The mattress shifted beside him; a moment later, he felt a strong arm around his shoulders, let himself fall to the side until his head was cradled by the warmth of Saihitei's chest.  "Shh.  Shh, it's all right."  A hand smoothed at his hair, swept the sweat-sticky strands back from his forehead.  "It's all right."  
  


"OI!" came a cry from the next room, jarring into the moment.  "Fuckin' eggs're ready!"

Ryuuen smiled slightly, voice still wavering from the tears.  "The fuckin' eggs are ready," he murmured.

"Are you hungry?"  
  


His smile softened.  "I could eat."

Careful to keep his arm solidly around Ryuuen's shoulders, Saihitei rose to his feet, pulling the smaller man up with him.  Then, still clinging to each other with the remnants of tears on their cheeks, they moved to the door, pulled it open, and stepped out.

It wasn't until they sat down that Ryuuen realized he hadn't told Sai of the attack this morning...but, as he saw the healing smile stretching at the man's lips, he couldn't bring himself to bring it up.  And, after all, it _had_ happened before, and he'd always been fine...right?    
  


_Next time_, he promised silently, sliding into his chair and watching Genrou slam a plate of scrambled eggs down in front of him. _Next time, I'll tell him.  Next time...next time, I'll go the hospital._

As he brought the fork to his lips, let a large, fluffy bite of eggs drop onto his tongue, a dark part of his mind reminded him that next time, if it ever came, might not be kind enough to _give_ him the chance to tell someone.  

He tried his hardest not to listen.

~*~


	6. Six.

~*~

"Miaka, I'm really not sure if we should--"  
  


The girl waved a hand at him.  "Iie, iie--it'll be fun!  And, it'll let Ryuu-chan relax and stop worrying about this heart thing!  Taka thinks it's a good idea, too."  

They sat at the kitchen table, Saihitei in his usual spot by the refrigerator, Miaka and Taka on either side of him.  Able to hear, distantly, the rush of Ryuuen's shower water, Sai ducked his head; his eyes slid closed, masked by tufts of chestnut hair.  "It's not that I don't think he needs it," he offered in a quiet voice, "it's just that I'm...afraid.  It's silly, I know, but...but, it seems like as long as he stays in here, he'll be safe."

Something warm slipped over his hand.  He blinked, glanced up...and found Miaka's small fingers gripping his own.  "I know it's hard," she said, and he was surprised by the solemnity to her voice...and the maturity.  "When I was little, my dad had heart problems, too, and...we were really afraid.  The doctors wouldn't tell us things, and they kept running these weird tests that we just wanted to stop..."  She let out a soft breath, gave his hand a gentle squeeze.  "But, even while all that was happening, he never stopped living his life.  He kept going to baseball games and driving us to school and doing all the stuff he did when he was healthy.  He was _happy_ because he kept doing those things--it helped him forget."  
  


He closed his eyes.  He saw her point, of course--after all, what good was it if Ryuuen spent all his time holed up in his room, dwelling on these problems instead of living his life?  But...something very near to morbid curiosity drove him onward, made him open his mouth and draw breath to speak.  "What happened to him?" 

Miaka's eyes snapped up to look at him, and the very real fear in them gave him enough of an answer.  "Ahhhh, that's not important, ne, Saihitei?"  
  


The eighteen-year-old slumped slightly in his chair, bringing a palm up to press against his forehead.  The motion covered his eyes, hid the sudden mist of tears from his friends' view.  "I..."  He sighed.  "I knew someone with heart problems before, too."

He felt Miaka stiffen beside him, the fingers around his own going suddenly tense, but it was Taka who spoke.

"You told us Ryuuen might not even have heart problems, didn't you, Saihitei?  That..."  The dark-haired man glanced at his fingers, kneading together on the table top.  "...that there might not be anything wrong with him."

"W-Who did you know with heart problems?"  Miaka's words shook, just slightly, breaking into the calm rhythm of her boyfriend's own.  "Ne?  Saihitei?"

His voice was little more than a whisper, the hand pressed to his eyes no longer concealing the bubbling of tears as they trickled through the breaks in his fingers, dripped from the end of his chin.  "It was...a long time ago.  Before I met any of you.  Before...Ryuuen."

_I could hear him breathing._

_And then...it stopped._

_How can it just stop?  How can someone be there one minute...and just...just _gone_ the next?  
  
_

_It doesn't seem fair._..

"My first boyfriend.  It was...only a few months after I realized that I was...that I preferred men.  He was older than me by a few years, and I...I cared for him a great deal."  
  


Miaka's hands were over her mouth.  "How awful!  Was...was he okay??"

_I could hear him breathing..._

"We were watching television. Lying on his couch.  I...I had my arms around him, and--"  
  


_I could hear him breathing..._

"...I could hear him breathing.  But, then, he..."

_It just stopped.  It stopped!  How could it just _stop_?_

He drew in a long, shuddering breath, took a moment to sweep the tears from his cheeks.  "He died.  It was...very sudden.  There wasn't a lot of pain, but..."  
  


_It just stopped._

He was only vaguely aware of the fact that the apartment had fallen eerily silent, that something was missing that had been there a few moments earlier.  It wasn't until he heard the slight intake of breath from far behind him that he realized that the shower had been off for several minutes, that Ryuuen...Ryuuen...

He drew the hand away from his face, turned with tearful eyes to face the man he'd pledged to spend the rest of his life with.  

_He...he heard, didn't he?  God, he heard..._

Ryuuen stood leaning against the doorframe to the bedroom, hair wet and hanging in damp tangles over his shoulders, body wrapped in a knee-length white bathrobe and little else.  His eyes were wide and stricken, and he looked as if he was trying to say something, but seemed to be unable to do much more than open and close his mouth.

Finally, Ryuuen gave up on speech, and instead left the safety of the doorway, crossed to the kitchen area, and halted in front of his boyfriend.  Saihitei gazed up at him with tear-filled eyes, feeling so weak and so drained that he, too, found himself without the energy to speak.  

But, it was all right, because then Ryuuen had lowered himself onto the edge of the chair and was hugging him tightly, slim arms wrapped around his chest, cheek to his shoulder.  "Sai," he breathed.  "Sai, I'm so sorry.  It must be so hard for you, to have to go through this again...I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault," he croaked.

He was vaguely aware of Taka's chair sliding back with a low screech, of the murmur of his friends' voices, retreating into the other room...and, then, there was nothing but the thud of Ryuuen's heartbeat, and the slow in and out of the smaller man's breathing, rising and falling gently with his own.

_Don't stop,_ he prayed desperately, giving into the tears for the first time in front of Ryuuen.  _Please.  _

He buried his face in the soft violet hair, and the smaller man held him tightly as he cried.  

_Don't stop._

~*~


	7. Seven.

~*~

"Nono, it's okay.  I know where we're going."  
  


Miaka, seated next to her boyfriend in the passenger seat of the Toyota, shook her head.  "Taka," she growled, "you do _not_."  
  


Taka glanced at her, having just finished peering frantically at the signs on the side of the highway, and gave a bright smile.  "Don't be silly.  I know where we're going.  We just need to...ah..."  
  


Ryuuen cleared his throat from the back seat.  "Turn off that exit right there, drive for three blocks, then turn right?"

Taka nodded, granting the older man a brief, thankful glance before returning his eyes to his girlfriend.  "Exactly.  See, Miaka?  You've just got to trust me."  
  


Giggling and shaking her head, Miaka turned in her seat.  Ryuuen and Sai sat side by side in the back, Ryuuen enduring the lack of shoulder strap provided by the middle seatbelt so he could lean against his boyfriend.  His head was resting on Sai's shoulder, while Sai had his arm slipped behind the smaller man's back, holding him close despite the bumping and jarring of the exit ramp.

"Hey, thanks a lot, Ryuu-chan," Miaka offered good-naturedly.  "He almost had to admit that he had no idea where we're going."  
  


Not bothering to lift his head from the warmth of Sai's shoulder, Ryuuen smiled.  "I try to be helpful."  The eighteen-year-old wrapped his arms a bit more tightly around his boyfriend's chest, closed his eyes and yawned.  "So, are Gen-chan and the others meeting us at the front gates?"

He heard the rustle of Miaka nodding.  "Yep."  She giggled.  "You know how Gen-chan is."  She lowered her voice into a surprisingly-accurate imitation:  "He doesn't fuckin' wanna go to some stupid goddamn carnival if he can't bring his own fuckin' car so he can get the hell outta there when he wants to, damn it!"  
  


Ryuuen's eyes flared open.  "M..._Miaka!_"  
  


The girl glanced around the small car, realizing with a start that all eyes seemed to be on her--even Taka's, which she was fairly certain should've been on the road.  "Hehehe..."  She grinned.  "Sorry.  But, we've all heard those words before, haven't we?"  
  


Saihitei, who was still staring at her as if she'd sprouted two heads and one of them had started to spin around, shook his head.  "Certainly, we've heard them before, Miaka.  But...well, just not from you."  
  


Miaka turned back around in her seat, crossing her arms over the white cotton of her blouse.  "Well.  I'm not _that_ sheltered that I...Taka, watch it!  You're gonna miss the turn-off!"  
  


The brakes squealed, sending all four occupants of the car surging forward into their restraints.  Despite the sudden groans from the passengers, however, Taka managed to coerce the Toyota into turning onto the haphazardly-paved side road, and a moment later, they were off again, speeding towards the colorful "Ferndale Carnival" sign.  

"Hey, Miaka..."  
  


The girl blinked, twisted in her seat.  "Hmm?"  
  


Ryuuen, still wrapped in Sai's arm, had nonetheless straightened somewhat, and was currently pulling his hair back into a high ponytail, a black scrunchie cinched around his wrist as he worked.  Sai occasionally had to duck his head to the left to avoid an elbow to the temple, but Ryuuen didn't seem to notice.  "Remind me again why we're going to this carnival?"  
  


Miaka sniffed.  "We do every year, Ryuu-chan! It's a Yuuki family tradition!  And, now that I'm living with you and Taka and Sai, you guys are my family, so you get to come with me!"  
  


Ryuuen was silent for a long time, ponytail limp and unfinished, arms dropping slowly to his sides.  Finally, though, he smiled.  "Your family," he echoed softly.  "Yeah, I...I guess we are."  

There was a slight, comfortable pause.  The radio was playing, very softly, turned onto the Soft Rock station Miaka'd insisted on, and the hum of the Toyota's engine was a soothing lull to the recent chaos of their lives.  Ryuuen smiled, fixed the ponytail, and returned his head to the warmth of boyfriend's shoulder.  

A few minutes later, they pulled through the painted carnival archway and were directed, by a very bored-looking man in an orange vest, to the parking lot.  After finding a space approximately eighty-five miles away from the entrance, Taka stopped the car, turned off the car, and pulled the key from the ignition.

"Yaaaaaay, we're here!" Miaka chirped.  

Ryuuen blinked sleepily, rubbing a hand at his eyes as he sat up.  "Not so loud, huh, Miaka?"

She grinned, turning around in the seat and offering a truly-frightening giggle.  "But...we're...HERE!  C'mon c'mon 'cmon, let's go let's go!  They have the _best_ cotton candy here--and the corn dogs!  Ahhh!  C'mon c'mon!"

Smiling, Ryuuen reached down and unbuckled his seat belt, waited while Sai did the same and reached for the door handle.  A moment later, the four of them had vacated the car and were starting off towards the entrance, cutting through the parking lot with Taka in the lead, Miaka bouncing faithfully beside him, Ryuuen and Saihitei following close behind.  

~*~

Genrou, Houjun, and Kouji were waiting for them at the front gate, Houjun leafing quietly through a map of the carnival's layout, Genrou and Kouji playing Poker for stones on the grass.  Judging by the mound of pebbles piled up in front of Kouji--as well as the flood of curse words already drifting to their ears--Genrou was having yet another off day.

At the sound of their approaching footsteps, Houjun glanced up and smiled.  "Hi," he said, folding the map up and slipping it into his pocket.  "I'm glad you guys made it.  Genrou and Kouji were st--"

"Fuckin' _no!"_ Genrou shrieked, leaping to his feet and hurling his cards at the grass.  "Fuckin' no _way_ you've got _another_ fuckin' Royal Straight!  You're fuckin' cheating!"

Kouji smiled placidly, already pulling the last of the pebbles to his own pile.  "These are your cards, man.  Not my fault if you can't play Poker worth sh--"  
  


"Heyyyy!" Miaka exclaimed, dashing up and placing herself in between the two.  "Let's not fiiiiiight.  Please?"  She sniffled, granting both her most practiced puppy eyes.  "Pleasepleasepleeeease?  Let's just go in and have fun, okay?  We've only got until five, and it's almost nooooooon."  
  


Genrou, currently gathering the fallen cards and stuffing them into his bookbag, frowned at her.  "Why only 'til five?  We got someplace to fuckin' go or somethin'?"  
  


Miaka slipped her arm around the waist of her boyfriend, who was currently digging through his wallet for the correct change to give the ticket man at the gate, and smiled.  "We're going out to dinner, then," she said.  "To someplace nice.  Right, Taka?"  
  


"Someplace nice but _inexpensive_," Taka corrected. 

"Someplace _nice_," Miaka insisted, giving her boyfriend a playful swat on the shoulder.  "Now, stop counting pennies and pay so we can go in.  I'm _so_ hunnnngryyyy!"

"Yeah, fuckin' really, Taka," Genrou grumbled, falling into line just behind Ryuuen and Saihitei.  "There're other people who wanna get in, too, and before fuckin' Christmas."  
  


Ryuuen turned, cast his friend a brief glare.  "Gen-chan," he hissed, "there're little kids around."

Genrou shrugged, slipping his hands into the pockets of his ripped jean shorts.  "Eh, they'll learn all those words sooner or fuckin' later."  
  


Sai shook his head.  "Sooner, in this case, I suppose."

"Hey," Genrou exclaimed, "I'm doin' these kids a service!  How the hell're they s'posed ta know what words not to say if no one tells 'em what they fuckin' are first?  Huh?  Huh-huh, Mr. Fancy Fuckin' Self-Employed?"

Ryuuen smiled, tightening his grip on his boyfriend's arm and resting his cheek on the taller man's shoulder.  "I hope you have kids someday, Gen-chan."  
  


Genrou blanched.  "Kids?  Fuck, no, man.  I'd hafta have a _wife_ to have kids, and fuckin'...fuckin'..."  
  


"That's enough, you know," Houjun interjected, coming up behind them.  He smiled slightly, pressing a finger to his chin.  "I don't think you should teach these kids about _that_ yet..."

Genrou flushed and went silent, and as they entered the carnival, there was no sound among them but Ryuuen's and Miaka's giggles, and Sai's low, chuckling laughter.

"Not fuckin' funny," Genrou growled under his breath.

~*~

(And now, for your viewing pleasure…)

**An Unfortunate Outtake:**

Genrou, Houjun, and Kouji were waiting for them at the front gate, Houjun leafing quietly through a map of the carnival, Genrou and Kouji playing a rousing game of Egyptian Ratscrew on the grass.  Which...sounds really bad, now that I think of it.  So, nevermind. ^^;;;;;;;

^_^()


	8. Eight.

[_Warnings:  shounen ai & swearing._]

~*~

The Ferndale Carnival was packed.

Getting in wasn't terribly difficult, since it was already almost noon and most carnival goers had paid in the morning, but once they stepped past the turnstile, they were confronted with a literal flood of humanity.  It shifted and swam before them like the passing of tides, moving with a chaotic rhythm all its own, and the seven friends found themselves pausing on its edge for a very long time, reluctant to step into it.  There was a murmur, too, that seemed to come from all around them, the muted roar of a thousand voices all speaking at once.  Every now and then, a snatch of conversation--a child, whining to go on a ride in a high voice; an older man, mumbling about trying to find his cigarettes; a group of young girls, gushing about the carnival fortune teller--would drift to them, and the faceless, voiceless sea would become just a group of people again.  

"Miaka," said Taka after a moment, having just finished counting out his change and returning it to his wallet, "it wasn't this crowded when you and your family were here last year, was--"  He broke off, eyes going wide in shock.  "Where did you get that?!"

Miaka blinked, one hand flying behind her back so quickly that she seemed almost not to move at all.  "What?"  

"Ah..."  Ryuuen lifted a finger, stepping forward so as to stand next to the girl.  "I think he means that creamsicle behind your back, Miaka."  
  


Already lapsing into a pout, she brought the hand back to the front, spent a moment licking off the ice cream that had been sliding down towards her hand.  "It's mine," she said, the pout deepening, glancing between Taka and Ryuuen as if afraid they were going to lunge for it.  "Somebody _gave_ it to me.  You can't take it away, 'cause it's mine!!"

Ryuuen raised an eyebrow. "My...precioussss?"  
  


"It was a vendor," Houjun said calmly, drawing the stares of his friends.  "He came through with a cart of ice cream a minute ago, and Miaka bought some."  
  


Genrou snorted.  "No duh."  
  


Houjun, who had been standing at the very back of the group for the last few moments, moved forward to let another group of carnival-goers pass, and ended up standing shoulder to shoulder with Genrou.  "No duh?" he echoed, lifting an eyebrow.

Genrou nodded.  "Yeah.  No duh.  Like...no fucking kidding."   

"Anyway," Taka said, watching with some amusement as a speculative frown came to Houjun's face, "we should figure out what we're doing before we get lost in there.  Miaka, is there a picnic table or a..."  He trailed off, realizing with a start that the girl was now eating a corndog, and had the sticky remains of the creamsicle dangling from her fingers.  He sighed, bringing a hand to his forehead.  "Houjun," he amended wearily, "is there a picnic table or a place we could sit down around here anywhere?"  
  


Houjun nodded, tugging the map out from the back pocket of his khakis, and spent a moment glancing over it.  "There should be some tables right over there."  He lifted an arm, pointed over Genrou's head and to the far right.  "They should be right along the fence."

"Okay."  Taka gave a brief, thankful nod, then glanced over his friends for a moment.  "Sai," he said at last, "you're the tallest.  Want to lead the way?"  
  


"I suppose I could..."  
  


"Okay, then, let's go.  Stick close to Sai, everybody...and if you see any more vendors, keep them away from Miaka."  
  


"No duh," said Houjun.

~*~

"All right, then," Taka concluded, flattening his palms against the dusty tabletop, "so, we meet back here at four thirty.  Does everybody have a watch?"  His eyes flickered around the table at his friends, found Miaka shoveling bites of frozen yogurt into her mouth, Ryuuen and Sai leaning against each other, Houjun skimming over the map, and Genrou and Kouji--

"Hey!!"  Taka glared at the two, dark tufts of hair falling down into his eyes and giving the expression an extra degree of menace.  "That," he continued angrily, jabbing a finger at the "Taka Sux" that had been carved into the table, "is vandalism."  His hands flew upwards.  "I'm not paying for it."

Genrou regarded him innocently.  "What the fuck're you talkin' about, Taka?"  
  


"Yeah," Kouji chimed, "that was fuckin' there when we got here."

"Is it our fault if somebody else thinks you suck?"

A low growl began to work its way from Taka's throat.  
  


"Maaaaaybe now would be a good time to go our separate ways," Ryuuen announced, rising to his feet with a tight smile.  "See you guys later!"  
  


Miaka dropped her frozen yogurt back onto the table with a loud clunk, twisting in her seat to stare at him.  "Ryuu-channnnnn," she said, pouting again, "you have to wait for me and Taka.  You said you'd ride the bumper cars with meeeee.  Right?  Rightrightright?"  
  


Ryuuen smiled.  Sai had been dragged to his feet when his boyfriend leaped up, and so the two of them stood together just beside the table, hands clasped and shoulders pressed together.  "Okay," he said, the smile softening.  "But you do know that you're gonna have to stop eating for long enough to get _into_ the bumper cars, right?  Because I don't think they'll let you eat while you're riding."  
  


"Awww, really?"  
  


Ryuuen nodded, sweeping his long violet hair back over his shoulders.  "I'm afraid so."  
  


"Aw.  That's a dumb rule."  
  


"Yeah, well, anyway..."  Genrou sat back with a grunt, swung his legs over the bench of the picnic table, and stood up.  Kouji followed, tucking his pocket knife back into his jeans as he moved, and a moment later, the two were standing side by side, doing their joined best to look bored.  "Kouji 'n me're gonna go see if there're any good rides this year."  
  


Kouji rolled his eyes.  "Not fuckin' likely."

"So, ya comin', Houjun?  Or are ya gonna stick around with these freaks for a little while?"

"Ah..."  Houjun glanced between his friends, a slight frown tugging at his lips.  "I..."  
  


"Ahhhhhh, looklooklook!"

Startled, the six turned to stare at Miaka, who was currently bouncing up and down in her seat, pointing wildly.  

"Aw, come _on,_" Genrou growled.  "If it's even another fuckin' ice cream vendor..."  
  


"No!" Miaka exclaimed frantically, still pointing. "Looklook!  It's Juan and Shouka and Doukun!!  JUUUUUAAAAAAAANNNNNN!!" she called loudly, waving her arms over her head.  "JUUUUAAAN!!"

The rest of them turned...and sure enough, there, just on the edge of the human sea and looking a little lost, was the Myo family, the youngest member perched on his father's thick shoulders.  At the sound of Miaka's voice, the three paused and turned, and were nearly run down by the flood as a result.  Seconds later, however, they had broken free of the swarm of bodies and were moving with smiles towards the picnic table, Juan in the lead and Shouka trailing just behind.

By the time they reached the table, Miaka had leaped up from her seat and was running towards them; Shouka was nearly toppled by the girl's enthusiastic greeting.  "Aww, I'm so glad you guys are here!" Miaka gushed, pulling back from the startled-looking woman to give Juan a quick hug.  "It's so great to see you!  And, ahhh, now we're all together!!"  
  


Juan gave a good-natured, albeit slightly-afraid, smile.  "It's good to see you, too, Miaka.  Taka."  He nodded to the others.  "Everyone."  
  


Miaka, meanwhile, had taken a short step back and was gazing up at the child perched on Juan's shoulders, a grin spreading across her face.  "Awww, Doukun's so cute!  How old is he now?"  
  


"Five and a half," Shouka replied with a smile.  Her honey-colored hair was tugged back into a high ponytail, and from the damp splotches spotting her white tanktop, it was a good bet that the three had recently come from the swimming area.  "But, honestly, sometimes I think he's five going on thirty.  Yesterday he used a word Juan and I had to look up in the dictionary to understand, and..."  She gave a smiling sigh, bringing a hand to her forehead.  "Anyway. We all needed a break, so here we are.  We've been here since nine--Doukun went on some kiddie rides, Juan gave a free medical consultation to some woman we met at the waterslide, and now we're heading over to the concession stands to get some drinks."  
  


Juan nodded solemnly.  "It's been a busy day."

"Yes," Shouka agreed with a smile.  "So, how long have you been here?  Very long?"

Miaka waved a hand, moving back to the table and sitting down; the three followed, Juan and Shouka lowering themselves into the seats Genrou and Kouji had recently abandoned, while Doukun was thunked down onto the tabletop, where he sat quietly as the conversation continued.  

"No, we just got here," she explained, smiling so widely that every tooth showed.  "But, it's so great that we ran into you guys!  I mean, with all these people here, what're the chances?"  
  


"It must be fate," Saihitei offered quietly.  

"Yeah," Miaka said, sounding considerably more subdued.  "Must be..."  
---

Ryuuen shifted his weight onto the other foot as the conversation continued, pleased to see their friends but also anxious to get away from them.  Because...

He closed his eyes for a moment, thankful that all attentions were focused elsewhere, and brought his right hand to the center of his chest, rubbed at it a little.  It didn't..._hurt_, exactly, he thought, struggling to be rational even though every bone in his body begged for him to stop being stupid and just _tell them_, _tell them _for God's sake and go to the hospital...  

But, it didn't hurt, it really didn't.  It was more of an...uncomfortable pressure, as if someone were pressing against his chest a little harder than they should.  It had started as a very dull, aching touch a few minutes ago, now was a little stronger, and despite everything within him that insisted that this was _not_ the same, that this was _nothing to be alarmed about_, all he could think about was what Saihitei had said yesterday.

_Saihitei's first boyfriend.  He just...died.  Just died.  Because he didn't tell anybody.  Maybe he was hurting.  And maybe he thought it was dumb, to say something when it felt like nothing.  Or maybe he was afraid, that he would have to go to the hospital and be alone and cold and...maybe.  _

_I could...just die, couldn't I?  Right now.  Right now, I could just...die._

He stood there in silence for awhile longer, thinking about that--thinking about what it would be like to die, how it would feel.  Would it hurt?  That was what people always asked about death, wasn't it?  Did it hurt?  Was it hard?  What happened afterwards?  Reunion with long-dead friends and family?  Eternal paradise?  Eternal damnation?  Darkness?  Nothingness?  Or, something more subtle?  Existence as a ghost, able to walk freely among still-living loved ones?  Reincarnation into a new body, a new life as a new person?  

_If I was somebody else...would I know I loved you, Sai? _

As if somehow sensing the course of his thoughts, Saihitei turned towards him then, and their eyes met.  They were such...beautiful eyes, he found himself thinking a little wistfully.  Gold, but specked with brown, and with a hint of green playing in the irises.  But...there was so much more in those eyes than just color, so much more than just that visible beauty.  The person he loved existed in those eyes, more than just the touch of a hand or the warmth of an arm around his shoulders--more than just a body or just a beautiful face above his own.

_You're so much more, Sai.  _

_What would it do to you, if what happened to him happened to me?  What would it do to you if I just...just..._

"Sai."  He'd spoken before his brain had caught up with his vocal chords; the fingers clinging to his own tensed slightly, and the beautiful golden eyes above him narrowed slightly, the eyebrows above them dipping downwards in concern.

"What is it?" Sai asked softly, careful to keep his voice low enough so their friends wouldn't hear.  His eyes flickered downwards for a moment, widened as he saw the smaller man's arm, clasped to the center of his chest, the fist rubbing absently at the area.  "Ryuuen, are you all right?  Is it...is it happening again?"  
  


There was such...anguish in his eyes.

_He worries about me so much.  I hate to do this to him.  I hate to have to hurt him.  He deserves better than this.  He deserves better than to have to deal with having two boyfriends with problems like this._

_God, it must be killing him.  Why him?  It isn't fair.  He's so kind and so warm and so loving--he's the most beautiful person I know, inside and out.  What did he do to deserve this?  What did he do to deserve _me_?  It doesn't seem fair._

Very consciously, he lifted the arm from his chest, returned it to his side.  "No, it's nothing," he insisted, managing a small smile.  "I...I thought for a second...but, no.  I'm all right."  
  


_He can hear how hollow that is, can't he?  He can hear how fake and...Sai, I'm lying.  I'm lying, don't believe me.  Please.  _

Sai's eyes narrowed a bit.  "Are you sure?  If you aren't feeling well, we can leave."

"No, I'm...I'm okay.  Really. I just felt a little weird there for a second, but..."  The smile felt so sickeningly-false, but he wore it anyway, even as everything rational within him screamed.  "I'm okay, now.  Sorry.  I didn't mean to worry you."  
  


Sai's expression remained solemn for a moment longer, his larger fingers sliding more fully over Ryuuen's smaller ones, gripping them tightly.  "It's all right.  Are you sure you're okay?"

_No.  No, I'm not sure.  It feels like someone's pressing down on my chest and my stomach is churning and I feel kind of strange, like you feel when you go limp in a swimming pool, and your legs and arms are just floating... _

"Yeah," he said, "I'm sure."  
  


"You're lying," came a soft, accusing voice from in front of him.

Startled, Ryuuen turned away from Sai, found Doukun sitting there on the edge of the picnic table, gazing at him levelly.  The boy was dressed in a red T-shirt and blue swimming trunks, his slightly-pinkish brown hair sheared into a bowl cut that somehow made him look even younger than he was.  Despite his appearance, however, there was no mistaking the intelligence in his eyes, or the very adult solemnity that had crept into his cherubish features.  

At this outburst, the others' conversation stopped, and all eyes turned to the child.

Juan cleared his throat, a deep rumble like thunder against the silence, and rested his hands on the boy's shoulders.  "Who's lying, Doukun?"  
  


But, there was little doubt as to who he was referring to.  The child's eyes stayed firmly on Ryuuen, even as his father spoke to him; Ryuuen, likewise, was frozen into place by the boy's stare, the blind panic churning within him and battling even the pressure in his chest.

"He's lying," Doukun said after a moment, his high child's voice sounding odd beneath the adult sentiments.  "He said he's okay.  He said it didn't hurt.  But it does. His face showed me.  It hurts."  The wide green eyes narrowed.  "Doesn't it?"  
  


And, just like that, all eyes were on him.

"Ryuuen?" said Juan slowly, tentatively, studying him.  "Are you in pain?"  

His heart was suddenly pounding in his ears; he bit down on his lower lip, struggled to come up with an answer that might convince them that he was all right, that it was nothing to be concerned about--no reason to stop all they were doing and focus on him like this...

Noticing his hesitation, the tall man rose to his feet, circled the table, and halted just before the eighteen-year-old.  "Don't be afraid to tell us, if you are," Juan said quietly.  "I know that it's frightening, and that it's easier to ignore things and pretend that they're not happening, but in the long run..."  His voice grew very soft, very gentle.  "Would you rather we blame ourselves later, for not having noticed that you needed help?"

He glanced around him, the heavy darkness of guilt in his stomach, noticing that Miaka had stopped eating, Kouji and Genrou were solemn and silent, and Saihitei...Saihitei...

With a quiet sob, he flung himself into his boyfriend's embrace, pressing his cheek to the man's warm, broad chest and closing his eyes.  "I'm sorry," he whimpered, holding onto Sai almost as tightly as Sai was now holding onto him.  "I'm sorry.  I'm sorry.  I-I didn't want to worry you a-and it seemed like nothing but I kept thinking about _him_, and..."  The tears came, then, streaming down his cheeks in a wash of salt and anguish, and his next words were barely a whisper.  "I'm sorry it's not fair I'm sorry."  
  


Strong hands rubbed at his back, warm arms held him close.  "Shh," Saihitei soothed, his voice wavering as he spoke.  "I know.  I know."

Genrou's voice came, then, shaky and low.  "Is he okay?  He's okay, right?"

~*~

***Author's Notes:  **Phew.  *collapses*  As those who have glimpsed my directory page know, I have recently gotten a job for myself. o.O;;  Thus, I haven't had much time at all for writing fanfiction, although I HAVE worked more on The Last Wish, Even Geniuses Get the Blues, Stand By Me, and at least four new fics that I'm waiting until I get further into to post. ^^;;;  But!  Anyway.  _Breathing_ is one of my favorite fics to write, so hopefully I'll be able to devote some more time to continuing this A.S.A.P.  But if not...well, I'm sure you'll survive, somehow. ^_~.  Until then, though, feel free to leave a review with your comments.  They are my fuel. ^__^.  ~Ryuen


	9. Nine

~*~

"Ryuuen," said Juan after a moment, "come over here and sit down."

He didn't answer.  His arms were wrapped tightly around Saihitei's chest, the comforting thud of the younger man's heartbeat in his ears, and he didn't want to let go.  His eyes were squeezed shut, a reddish darkness swirling against the backs of his eyelids, and if it hadn't been for the strength of the arms around him, he was fairly certain that he would be on the ground because his knees felt so weak and it was so hard to do anything more than just cling to Saihitei and pray that he didn't let go...

_Don't let go please don't let go  _

"Ryuuen."

A soft, loved voice in his ear; a warmth against his cheek.

_Please don't let go Sai please don't let go I'm afraid I can't do this please please_

"Ryuuen.  Sweetheart.  Please..."  

The arms around him didn't lift, but he was aware of them tensing, of the steady beat beneath his ear growing faster, more urgent.

His eyes closed more tightly, letting a cool tear squeeze free, trickle down his cheek.  

He could feel it coming, and it scared him more than he would've liked to admit; his arms tightened unconsciously around Sai, his head pressing to the taller man's chest as if bracing himself for what was to come.  It was difficult, to explain to the verbal side of himself just how he knew what was coming, or how it was that that knowledge was something _felt_ rather than _known_.  

_I don't want to leave him please don't make me leave him please please don't make me don't make me_

The pain exploded within him then, so violently that he jerked in Sai's arms, and the tears in his eyes were suddenly tears of pain, and of embittered acceptance.  Because...it wasn't fair, it really wasn't.  For this to happen again--for it to be here, in Sai's arms, in front of all of their friends...it just wasn't fair.  And, even as the anguish shuddered through him, even as he felt, again, that agonizing _tearing_ sensation as if something sharp were being shoved up through his chest, he burned with anger.  

_You can't do this to him._

_You can't._

_It's not fair you can't do this to him I love him you can't!!_

He had been drifting before the pain came, trying to float far enough away from himself so as not to feel it, because it hurt _so much_...but now, he had the sudden urge to return, to suffer through it and fight against it and _win_, because it wasn't fair it wasn't fair and he couldn't do this to Sai, not again, he had to fight--he had to fight!!  Even if he didn't win, he couldn't do this to the person he loved, the people he loved...Miaka!  Miaka, Hotohori-sama...

..._Hotohori-sama._

He was suddenly very aware of the sound of his own breathing, rushing in and out of his lungs with a roar like ocean waves; the thudding of his own heartbeat, too, was almost alarmingly-loud, hammering against his skull even as tears of pain slipped down past his eyelashes.  And now that he tried to return, now that he gathered up the shattered remnants of himself and struggled to push back the darkness, open his eyes and fight against the pain, he found that something was blocking his way.   It was as if he'd stepped outside for a moment only to find the door locked upon turning back; he wanted to pound his fists, scream, thrash and cry until someone realized that he couldn't get back in, he couldn't get back in...  But no one seemed able to hear him.

Everywhere, there was darkness, and the sounds of himself:  the rush of breath, the flow of blood, the drumming of his heart.  And...the voices.  They were whispers, coming at him from all sides, and he found that he couldn't feel the warmth of Sai's chest against his cheek anymore, or the strength of those arms around him.  He was floating free, cold and alone, in a darkened space, and all around him were whispers like a thousand voices speaking at once.

It was a very long time before he realized that they were all the same voice, chiming with differing thoughts at the same time.  Despite this realization, however, he found that he couldn't make out any of what was being said, or even whose voice it might be.  It felt familiar to him somehow, but it was a displaced kind of familiarity, like he imagined it would be for someone who was very old, attempting to remember a moment from early childhood.  

He floated like that for awhile, reality blurring in the darkness, and it seemed as if several eternities passed before the Voice came to his ears, and he remembered that he had died.  

~*~

It had been so sudden.  One moment, Ryuuen was clinging to him tightly, quiet sobs passing from his lips...and then, he'd shuddered, just once, and just like that, everything was different.  The slim arms around him went abruptly and frighteningly limp, and the weight against his arms was suddenly much more than it should've been.  At first, he'd been confused, the breath seeming to pause in his lips at the suddenness of the change.  What...what...

And then, slowly, realization trickled into him.

He brought his arms forward a little, loosening his grip; Ryuuen's head sank back from his chest with the motion, lolled backwards.  He could see, now, the streaks of dried tears on those pale cheeks, the way the moisture clung to Ryuuen's eyelashes as if frozen in place.  

"J...Juan," he managed shakily.

_He's not breathing my God he's not breathing he's not breathing _

"Juan...Juan, he...he...Juan..."

And suddenly, the tall doctor was standing there in front of him, dark blue eyes narrowed and solemn, and Ryuuen was being carefully drawn out of his arms and lowered onto the grass.  

~*~

"You remember the snow, don't you, Nuriko?"

_The snow.  The snow was so cold.  The snow was so cold and he was so big but I had to I had to I couldn't run away because if I did then he would've gotten it and Miaka God Miaka what would've happened to you so I couldn't let him even though he was so big.  He was so big and I was afraid.  I was afraid and I fought anyway and I thought maybe that I'd be okay even though I knew deep inside me that I wouldn't be but I fought anyway and his claws, his claws were inside of me and I couldn't get away because even though I didn't feel it at first I knew that it was over and I tried so hard to stay but I couldn't_

"And, the pain.  You remember the pain, don't you?"

_Oh.  Oh, Great Suzaku, the pain.  My chest.  My chest, the pain...  I can remember it so well it was like I was on fire but it was a cold fire so cold and I could feel the wind inside of me and the blood was so hot that it burned my skin and I couldn't breathe because it hurt so much and I went limp for a minute, dangling there like a puppet and then he moved and I remembered and I knew I had to move_

"There was something else, though, wasn't there, Nuriko?"  
_Hotohori-sama.  Hotohori-sama...!  For a second when I was hanging there it was like he was there with me, because they all were but it was different with him because I loved him and I wanted so much to come back but I couldn't and it wasn't fair and I swore, I swore that I would find you again, Hotohori-sama, I swore that I would find you and you would be happy because you deserved more than this and more than me and I prayed that someone else would love you until I could because it wasn't fair and even though I was dying you were all I could think about._

Suddenly, he was standing in a small, dark room, illuminated only by the silver flicker of starlight, and he could see a dark shape just at the edge of the light, moving towards him.  It was a moment before he recognized it as the form of a woman, except she wasn't a woman, she was something else--there was more to her than that, more to her than a body or a Voice.  And then, she stepped into the flood of starlight and her eyes were beautiful, rising up before him, and she took him into her arms and pulled him close and held him like a child, and he was crying before he even heard her speak.

"Suzaku is the God of love," Taiitsukun whispered, her aged fingers smoothing the hair back from his forehead as he wept.  "Did you know, Nuriko, that you were chosen to die first then because he loved you the most, and because he didn't want to hurt you?"

He was sobbing against her, unable to stop despite how badly he wanted to, and it was a long time before he realized that the tears were not all his own.

"He cried for you, Nuriko.  Because you loved so deeply and so purely, and he knew that it would've torn you apart if anyone but you had been taken first.  He heard you that night, when you prayed--when you pleaded that he take you over any of them...and, because he loved you, he gave you your wish.  You never knew, did you, that they loved you, too?  You never knew that they loved you so much that your death bonded them forever as one soul, one body, always together no matter where or when or how much time had passed.  _You_ did that for them, Nuriko, because they loved you as dearly as you loved them, and when your soul passed from this world, each of them was filled with love for you at the same instant, and it was strong enough to let Suzaku join them for all eternity.

"It was _you_, Nuriko," she continued, drawing him up to meet her gaze.  Her palms pressed to his tear-stained cheeks, such a gentle touch that he barely felt them.  "It was you who bonded them.  The love they felt for you and the grief that struck into their hearts when you were taken from them thickened the ties between them, giving them all the strength they needed to endure, and to triumph."

He heard the words, knew they were true, but everything was a jumble inside of him; this shouldn't make sense, some rational part of his mind whispered.  It shouldn't make sense, but somehow, it did, and he knew the truth of everything so clearly that it scared him.

When at last he managed to break free of the tears for long enough to speak, Taiitsukun's wizened face had softened into a slight smile, and the depth of the love in her eyes nearly made him lapse into sobs again.  "But...why...why now?" he managed, biting down on his lip as if to force back the tears.  "Wh...why am I being taken now, again, when...when they're already bonded? It isn't fair."

He'd heard her laugh before, he knew he had, but...this was different.  Everything he had ever known of her seemed to be knowledge of a different person, and despite the new-old memories within him, he knew that the woman who held him now was the _reality_ and not the _mask_.  The laughter was light and soft, flowing from her lips like a melody, and the very sound of it drove joy into his heart and tears to his eyes.

"You are not being taken," she said at last, smiling down at him.  "Don't you understand? You're being given a gift.  Suzaku's love for you is deeper than any love you can imagine, and he wants you to remember all so you can finally be at peace."

Confusion circled in his brain, dizzying and blurred, and he realized that he was frowning.

Taiitsukun sighed, a hint of exasperation in her features.  "I see speech will be inadequate to explain this to you," she rumbled.  "Very well, then.  I will show you."  

~*~

Juan's face was twisted in anguish, his dark eyebrows drawn together on his forehead.  "He's not breathing," he said.

Miaka's hands went to her mouth; Genrou fell backwards a step, thudded into Houjun and would've lost his balance if the older man hadn't lifted his hands, gripped the seventeen-year-old's shoulders.   Taka slid forward, face pale and drawn, and put his arm around Miaka; the girl fell into him with a choked sob, eyes riveted to the still form on the grass.  Even Doukun did not go unaffected by the moment, scrambling into his mother's arms and burying his face into her shoulder; Shouka held onto him tightly, shivering, looking as if she wanted to go to her husband but lacking the motor control to do so.

And then, there was Saihitei.

He had fallen to his knees on the grass beside Ryuuen, greenish stains already streaked into the fabric of his khakis.  His eyes were wide but dry, and were focused--not on the still, pale figure on the grass, violet hair pooling around him--but on his own hand, and on the glittering gold band circling his finger.  His lips moved silently, as if chanting a prayer, and even when the wind sent long tufts of chestnut hair fluttering in front of his vision, he didn't move or blink.

Moments had passed, and Juan was leaning down to push the air into Ryuuen's lungs, when Miaka straightened, slipped out of her boyfriend's embrace, and moved to Saihitei's side.  Taka followed, the tears pooling in his eyes, and the two of them knelt on either side of the man, put their arms around him.  Genrou came next, moving stiffly and mechnically, and kneeled just behind Miaka; Houjun was right behind him, and then Doukun was struggling to break free of his mother's protective arms, was walking unsteadily towards them...

Slowly, Juan sat up, his back to his friends, and let his fingers slide from Ryuuen's shoulders, drop onto his own lap.  His eyes gazed sightlessly ahead, not seeming to focus on anything at all, and even as Shouka stared at him, seeming to demand to know why he was stopping now, why he wasn't continuing when Ryuuen's life was on the line, he didn't say a word.  And then he was turning, getting his feet beneath him and rising upwards, and a moment later he'd dropped to his knees just in front of Saihitei.  

The eighteen-year-old looked up at him, then, and despite the anguish in the younger man's eyes, there was understanding, too, and...something else.  

"I see," Juan said quietly, lifting his arms and wrapping them carefully around Saihitei, around the seven who joined him in the embrace.  "I see."                         

~*~

"It was the most powerful moment they shared together."

He saw them beneath him, far away but so close that he could've reached out and touched them, wrapped in each other's arms and hearts and souls.  He felt a part of himself in each of them, as if he were the common tie between them all, and it seemed as if he could feel bits of them within himself, too, making him whole...

"Just as their love for you brought them together then, it brings them together now."

The understanding was slow, creeping heavily through his veins, but it was coming; he could feel the beginnings of comprehension in his brain, like the first pricks of starlight against the darkening sky, and knew that very soon, he would know.  Very soon, they all would.  

He closed his eyes, exulting for a moment in the warmth of their love against him.  "Can...can they see me?"

Even though she had long vanished from his sight, Taiitsukun seemed to be smiling; her words were almost achingly-soft.  "Not yet.  But, they will.  And by the time you return to them, they will understand, as you are beginning to.  What they don't understand, you will explain to them.  The God of Love did not choose you for idle reasons, Nuriko.  You are his emissary because no one can do this but you."

"I understand," he whispered.  
He felt cool, floating above the ground with the rush of wind around him; his body seemed blanketed in clouds, his hair flooding around him like a great cape.  His vision was limited, too, despite the fact that he knew he could see everything from where he stood, and a reddish mist seemed to cover all but the circle of grass his friends occupied.  

"It must be very important," he heard himself saying, although his voice sounded very distant in his own ears, and not entirely like he remembered it, "for the Suzaku no Shichiseishi to be reawakened after all this time."

Slim, gentle hands pressed against his shoulders; a moment later, there was the warmth of breath against his ear, and a voice like the quaking of the earth in his mind.

"_It is_," Suzaku murmured, his voice somehow both silent and deafening.  He felt himself fading, tried to grip the hand on his shoulder but couldn't seem to find the strength...  "_A trial awaits you such as you have never faced, and once again, you will need to make a choice.  Until then, return to the ones you love, and remember that you are strong, and I love you."_

Tears sprang to his eyes; he couldn't seem to find the strength to wipe them away.  "You..."

_"The mark of your allegiance to me rests over your heart.  Did you never notice?  I placed it there because that is where your strength lies, and your greatest weakness.  Your heart pains you as nothing else, but it is also what gives you your power, and what bonds you to me more greatly than any other.  But I have purged that pain from you, Nuriko.  I have purged the pain and the guilt and the anguish of every lifetime you've ever lived, because I need your strength for what lies ahead.  You must enter this new conflict with nothing but the love for your companions in your heart._

_"It will be difficult.  You may not survive.  But they will be with you, and I will, also."_

Suddenly, he was alone again, alone in that darkness that had brought him into the arms of Taiitsukun, brought him into the presence of Suzaku himself.

"_Remember, Nuriko_."  The voice came to him from a distance, muffled by the rush of blood in his ears, the sudden thudding of his heart.  "_Remember that you are strong.  Remember that I have chosen you..."_

And then the darkness had faded, and he began to breathe again.

~*~


	10. Ten.

[Breathing – Chapter 10]

_[Warnings:  Beware of shounen ai, series spoilers, and goopy, dripping sap.]_

~*~

How much time had passed?  How long had he been lying here, staring up into the streaks of blue and white and listening to the thudding of his own heartbeat in his ears?  A few seconds, he reasoned, mostly from the fact that nothing had happened yet, and to his best recollection of such situations, _something_ was generally expected to happen after a near-death experience in front of friends.  Yet, despite the fact that he knew it had been only a few moments since he'd felt the life trickling back into his body, since he'd left the warming arms of Suzaku and returned here, it seemed so much longer.  Days.  Months.  Years.  An eternity, perhaps.  For a moment, he wasn't sure why that was, but then the memories began to trickle into his mind, and he remembered.  There had been a moment, as he'd drifted back towards the earth, that he'd seen--flashing before his eyes like a movie on super fast-forward--all that he was and had been, in this life and the last, all in the same instant. 

He'd seen from the moment of his birth in the last life to the moment of his death, all of it, even those small moments that he'd failed to remember after that first near-death revelation--he'd seen his mother, his father, his bedroom, Kourin's birth, Kourin smiling at him, so much Kourin, everything Kourin, Kourin's dresses, Kourin's hair, Kourin's smell--like vanilla and lilacs--Kourin at the shop, Kourin in her room, Kourin outside picking flowers...  Kourin running.  Kourin bleeding.  Kourin dying.  Kourin's resurrection by his own hand, the death of Ryuuen, and the miraculous length of time that it had stayed that way.  

And for the first time, he understood.  

_It was meant to be.  All of it.  It was meant to be.  How many men could've done that?  How many had the features for it, or the voice for it, or...  I was made for a purpose, by the hand of a god who knew what was going to be coming for me.  And I fulfilled that purpose.  _

It was a chilling thought, at first, to think that perhaps he was as he was because it had been in preparation for the death of his beloved little sister.  And yet, as he thought about it, he couldn't help but think that--without that defining moment in his life--he would never have grown into the woman--and the man--he had eventually become.  Without Kourin's identity, he'd have never found his way to the Imperial Palace, and would never have been on hand to dig Miaka and Tamahome out of that rubble.  For that matter, without the freeing mindset of thinking of himself as a female, he doubted he'd have been able to look at Hotohori-sama and see--not just another man--but someone worthy of love, someone who _deserved_ to be loved.

He was speaking even before he realized what he was doing, and although his eyes never left the gold-flecked clouds above, he was sure that the man kneeling beside him knew to whom he spoke.

"I remember the first time...I knew," he murmured.  

There was the violent rustle of many pieces of cloth moving against on another immediately after he spoke, as well as a few yelps of astonishment, but he paid them no attention.  His gaze was far in the past, fixed on the crouched form of a man with long, beautiful chestnut hair and bronze-skinned features twisted in anguish.  

Instinctively, he felt himself reaching out for that agonized figure, clinging as it was to the trunk of a willow with grief-clenched fingers, and a moment later was aware of something warm sliding over his hand that was very definitely _not_ of the past.  

Ignoring even this, he swallowed and continued.

"It was...the summer...that your mother died, Hotohori-sama."  His voice seemed barely a whisper, and yet there was an echo to his words, as of another voice--the same, but somehow different--speaking them at the same moment.  "I found you in the gardens, just after dusk.  You were...you were crying."  He felt the tears pooling in his eyes, blinked until they slipped past his eyelashes and trickled down his cheeks.  "And even though it was after curfue, I wanted...so badly...to go to you, and to try to comfort you, but...but I couldn't.  But, after that..."  He shook his head.  "After that, I always walked through the gardens at night, because if you ever needed to cry again, then at least...I could be there, to comfort you if you needed it.  That was when I knew."  
  


_If I was meant to do what I did, then I was meant to love you, wasn't I, Hotohori-sama?  Wasn't I?  And even if it took you an entire lifetime to figure it out...you were meant to love me, too.  Weren't you?_

He was aware of a choked sound just beside him, as of someone trying to push back a sob, and turned towards it.  Only his head moved, just a few inches, but that tiny movement changed everything.  One moment, there was the sky above him and the grass pillowing his body and the vague sounds of life around him...and now, suddenly, there was Sai.  There was Miaka.  There was Taka, Juan, Doukun, Genrou, Houjun...his friends.  All of them were there, just as he'd seen them from above, and there was something new about the way they sat--something new about the way they looked at him, and the way they looked at each other.

_They know._  _They...they remember._

Miaka was smiling at him through her tears, leaning on Taka's shoulder as if unable to keep herself upright any other way.  Genrou was grinning at him through a mist of his own tears, while Houjun patted him gently on the shoulder, as he might a younger brother.  Juan held Doukun in his big arms, the boy's tiny arms wrapped around his father's neck, his eyes wide and bright with the intelligence both lives had granted him.  And...

"Sai," he whispered.

Saihitei sat just beside him, knees folded underneath him and arms hanging limply from his sides, his eyes red and tear-filled, his lips pursed together as if trying to hold something back.  The chestnut strands of his hair had slipped free of their ties and hung in moistened strands around his face, some sticking to his cheeks, some dangling down past his shoulders, and now that he looked closely, he could see the imprint of Saihitei's ring on his cheek, from where the taller man's hands had pressed.

_I caused this.  It was because of me.  Because of me that he felt like this.  Because of me that he's crying right now_.  _It's all my fault._

And, yet... 

He smiled.  And yet, even knowing this--even knowing that he had caused this, that it was _all because of him that Saihitei was upset and crying_--he felt nothing but peace, nothing but warmth.  The painful, suffocating guilt that usually assailed him simply wasn't there.  Or it was, perhaps, but he _understood_ it, now.  He understood, and because he understood, he could deal with it.

_He's crying because he loves me.  He's crying because he loves me and he doesn't want me to die.  It -is- my fault, but it's okay.  It's okay, because I love him, too, and if I thought I was going to lose him, I'd be crying, too.  _

_It's okay.  It's okay, because we love each other._

Slowly, carefully, he got his hands beneath him and pushed himself up into a sitting position.  None of his friends had moved yet, too caught up in shock and relief and their new memories to do much more than just sit there, staring at him.  He was also aware, now, of the fact that he and his friends were not alone, that there was a fairly large crowd circling them, staring at them.  He noticed, but found that he couldn't force himself to care.  Smiling through a sudden mist of tears, he slid forward and let himself fall into Saihitei's arms, and suddenly, everything was right again.

---

Even with Ryuuen in his arms again, alive and well and smiling, the pain of the last few moments still lingered inside of him.  He had thought the pain would never end.  Ryuuen, lying there lifeless in front of him, dying for the second time with no one to help him...no one to save him.  

_If I'd been there..._

But, it just wouldn't have been right, to leave the country on its own, to usurp his duty as emperor for purely personal reasons.  He'd _wanted_ to go.  He'd wanted to go so badly that he'd nearly asked Chichiri to stand in for him again, but of course that wouldn't have been fair or right, and probably would have endangered the lives of everyone.  Chichiri, after all, was so much wiser than he, and a great deal more able to handle whatever problems might arise during the journey.  But, he'd wanted so badly to go...and for more than one reason.

_Nuriko. _

_I wasn't...in love with you, not then.  Even if you were a woman in my eyes first, you were a _man_, and so I didn't even think of seeing you in any way other than a brother warrior and a friend.  But, Suzaku, you were such a friend to me.  You were always there, even when everyone else had gone.  When I was lonely or hurting or missing Miaka, you were always there to keep me company or make me laugh.  You always had a smile, even when hearing my grief over Miaka must have been tearing you apart inside, and anything I asked of you, even if I couldn't find the words to ask, you did--and more.  Maybe I didn't love you then, not like this.  Maybe all it was was that you were my best friend, and losing you was like losing a part of myself, but when I lost you...  When I lost you, Nuriko..._

The guilt had hurt the most.  And as he'd laid there in the garden, collapsed in the grass beneath the willow with grief running in streams down his cheeks, the words running through his mind had not been kind.  _If I'd been there.  Gods, if I'd been there, I might've made the difference.  If I'd just come along, I might've been able to stop it, or to protect you, or, at the very least, to die with you, so you wouldn't have to be alone.  Gods, Nuriko...Nuriko...you never liked to be alone.  You hated being alone--you stayed away from your room until it was time to go to sleep, talking to me or the Harem women or the servants or the guards or whoever would talk to you...  Oh, gods, why did you have to die alone?_

But, it was all right now.  It was all right, because he _wasn't _alone, and he _wasn't_ going to die.  Not now.  Not this time.  Struggling to control the tears that didn't seem to want to stop coming, Saihitei lifted his arms from where they'd been dangling, tugged them upwards, and managed to wrap them around Ryuuen's shoulders.  The smaller man was warm against him, the comforting thud of his heartbeat a little faster than normal, but still there.  Still there.  Smiling through his tears, he pressed his cheek to Ryuuen's, hugging him closer, and exulted for a moment in the fact that their breathing had slowed into the same rhythm, that even their hearts seemed to be beating as one.  

_A terrible pop-song cliché_, he thought with a slight smile, sniffling and getting a whiff of the spicy/flowery fragrance of Ryuuen's hair as a result, _but a true one.  Sometimes, it feels like we're two halves of the same person..._  _No.  No, it's more than that.  It's so much more._

Squeezing his eyes shut tightly, he clutched Ryuuen closer, so close that it seemed as if they might meld into one just by sitting there.  "Thank you," he murmured.

He felt the older man shift slightly against him, relaxing into his embrace, breathing in slow, sweet breaths that tickled against his ear.  "Hmm?  For what?"  
  


Carefully, he disentangled himself from Ryuuen's arms and, as those wide violet eyes stared up at him quizzically, brought his palms to the smaller man's cheeks.  The salt of tears still on his lips, he bent forward and kissed Ryuuen softly on the mouth, then tucked the man's head down to kiss him on the forehead.  "For breathing," he whispered.

~*~

**_End Part One._**

Notes: 

**Readers: ** *stare at screen, blinking*  End part one?  Whaaaaaaazzzzzat mean? o.O;;

**Ryuen:  **Ahhhhem.  Well.  Part One is focused mainly on Ryuuen's "medical problems," and what becomes of them, as you've no doubt noticed.  Now, however, that they've been dealt with, the course of the plot is going to be taking a much different turn, and thus...part two!  *nod*  Comprende?

**Readers:  **Hai!

**Ryuen:  **Great.  *thumbs up*****


End file.
